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Encyclopaedia 

of 

Religion and Ethics 



Encyclopedia 

of 

Religion and Ethics 



EDITED BY 

JAMES HASTINGS, M.A., D.D. 

FELLOW OF THE ROTAL ANTHROPOLOGICAL INSTITDTE 
MEMBER OF THE COUNCIL OF THE FALE8TINI EXPLORATION FUND 

EDITOR OF 
'DICnONABT OF THE BIBLE* AND 'DICTION ART OF CHRIST AND THE GOSPELS' 



WITH THE ASSISTANCE OF 

JOHN A. SELBIE, M.A., D.D. 
And Other Scholars 



VOLUME V 
DRAYIDIANS-FICHTE 




Edinburgh: T. & T. CLARK, 38 George Street 

New York: CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS, 153-157 Fifth Avenue 

I912 



J&L 
31 

V.5 



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A 



V 



AUTHOES OF ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



Abhahams (Israel), M.A. (Lond. and Camb.). 
Reader in Talmudic and Rabbinic Literature 
in the University of Cambridge ; formerly 
Senior Tutor in the Jews' College, London ; 
editor of the Jewish Quarterly Review, 1888- 
1908. 

Family (Jewish). 

Adams (John), M.A., B.Sc., LL.D. 

Professor of Education in the University of 
London. 

Education. 

Alexander (Hartley Burr), Ph.D. 

Professor of Philosophy in the University of 
Nebraska. 

Ethics and Morality (American), Ex- 
pediency, Expiation and Atonement 

(American). 

ANE.SAKI (MASAHAR). 

Professor of Reli^ous Science in the Imperial 
University of Tokyo. 

Ethics and Morality (Buddhist). 

Anwyl (Sir Edward), M.A. (Oxon.). 

Professor of Welsh and Comparative Philo- 
logy, and Dean of the Faculty of Arts, in 
the University College of Wales, Aberyst- 
wyth ; author of Celtic Religion, Grammar 
of Old Welsh Poetry, Welsh Grammar, 

Family (Celtic). 

Armitage-Smith (George), M.A., D.Lit. 

Principal of Birkbeck College, London ; for- 
merly Dean of the Faculty of Economics in 
the University of London ; Fellow of Sta- 
tistical Society ; Member of Council of Royal 
Economic Society ; Lecturer on Economics 
and Mental Science at Birkbeck College. 

Employers. 

• Arnold (Edward Vernon), Litt.D. 

Professor of I^tin in the University College 
of North Wales. 

Epictetus. 

Aston (William George), M.A., D.Litt., C.M.G. 
Formerly Japanese Secretary of H.M. Lega- 
tion, Tokyo; author of History of Japanese 
Literature, Shinto. 

Fetishism (Introductory). 



Baillie (James Black), M. A. (Edin. and Camb.), 
D.Phil. (Edin.). 
Professor of Moral Philosophy in the University 
of Aberdeen ; author of Hegel's Logic (1901), 
The Idealistic Construction of Experience 
(1906), Hegel's Phenomenology of Mind 
(1910). 

Ethical Idealism. 

Barker (Henry), M.A. 

Lecturer in Moral Philosophy in the University 
of Edinburgh. 

Duty. 

Bateson (Joseph Harger), F.R.G.S. 

Secretary, Wesleyan Army and Navy Board. 

Festivals and Fasts (Buddhist, Chinese, 
Nepalese). 

Bennett (William Henry), M.A. (Lond.), 
D.D. (Aber.), Litt.D. (Camb.). 
Sometime Fellow of St. John's College, Cam- 
bridge ; Professor of Old Testament Exegesis, 
Hackney College and New College, London ; 
author of The Religion of the Post-Exilic 
Prophets. 

Elder (Semitic), Eve. 

Beveridge (William), M.A. 

Minister of the United Free Church, New 
Deer and Maud ; author of A Short History 
of the Westminster Assembly, Makers of the 
Scottish Church, 

Ebionism. 

De Boer (Tjitze), Philos. Dr. 

Professor of Philosophy in the University of 
Amsterdam. 

Ethics and Morality (Muslim). 

Bolling (George Melville), A.B., Ph.D. 

Professor of Greek and Sanskrit Languages 
and Literatures, and Assoc. Professor of 
Comparative Plulology, in the Catholic 
University of America. 

Dreams and Sleep ( Vedic). 

Brandt (Dr. Wilhelm). 

Formerly Professor of Old and New Testa- 
ment and the History of Religion in the 
University of Amsterdam. 

Elkesaites. 



AUTHORS OF ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



Brown (William Adams), Ph.D., D.D. 

Roosevelt Professor of Syatematio Theology 
in Union Tlieoloj;tc«I Seminary, New York ; 
•nttior of Christum Theology in Outline. 
Expiation and Atonement (Christian). 

BmxocK (Thomas Lowndks), M.A. 

Professor of Chinese in the University of 
Oxford. 
Ethics and Morality (Chinese). 

BUBNS (ISLAY FERRIER), M.A. 

Tutor and Librarian in Westminster College, 
Cambri(l);e ; formerly Snell Exhibitioner at 
Balliol College, Oxford. 
Faith (Greek, Roman). 

CaHpbell Smith (Mary), M.A. 
Dundee. 
Enemy, 

Carlkton (James George), D.D. 

Canon of St Patrick's, Dublin, and Lecturer 
in Divinity, Trinity College, Dublin ; author 
of Th» Part of Rheims in the Making of the 
Engluh Bible, The Prayer-Book Ptalter with 
Marginal Notes. 
PestiTals and Fasts (Chriatian). 

Cabea de Vaux (Baron Bernard). 

Professeur k I'feole libre des Hautes fitudes ; 
Membre du Conseil de la Soci^t^ asiatique 
de Paris. 
Family (Moalim), Al-Farabi, Fate (Mus- 
lim). 

Cabter (Jesse Benedict), Ph.D. (Halle). 

Director of the American School of Classical 
Studies in Rome. 
Ethics and Morality (Roman), Family 
(Roman). 

Casabtelli (Louis Charles), M.A. (Lond.), D. D., 
and D.Litt. Or. (Louvain), M.R.A.S. 
Bishop of Salford ; Lecturer on Iranian Lan- 
guages and Literature in the University of 
Manchester ; formerly Professor of Zend and 
Pahlavi in the University of Louvain. 
Dualism (Iranian). 

Chamberlain (Alexander Francis), M.A. 
(Toronto), Ph.D. (Clark). 
Professor of Anthropology in Clark Uni- 
versity, Worcester, Maxs.; editor of the 
Journal of American Folklore (1900-1908) ; 
author of The Child and Childhood in Folk- 
Thought, The ChUd: A Study in the Evolu- 
tion of Man. 

Education (American). 

Cu>DD (Edward). 

Corresponding Member of the Soci^t^ d'Anthro- 
jologie de Paris, and Vice-President of the 
folklore Society ; Fellow of the Royal 
Anthropological Institute. 
Evolution (Ethical), Execution of Ani- 
mals. 

Cobb (Wiluam F.), D.D. 

Rector of the Church of St. Ethelbnrga the 
Virgin,. London, E.C. 
Faith-healing:. 

Cook (Stanley Arthur), M.A. 

Ex-Fellow and Lecturer in the Comparative 
Study of Religion, in Gonville and Caius 
College, Cambridge ; author of The Laws of 
Mostt and the Code of Hammurabi, The 
Religion of Ancient Palestine, 
Edomites. 



poll 
Fol 



Cbawlk.y (Alfred Ernest), M.A. (Camb.). 

Fellow of the Royal Antliropological Institute 

and of the Sociological Society ; author of 

The Mystic Rose, The Tree qf Life, The Idea 

of the Sold. 

Dress, Drinks and Drinking, Drums and 

Cymbals, Eating the God. 

Crooke (William), B.A. 

Ex -Scholar of Trinity College, Dublin ; Fellow 

of the Royal Anthropological Institute ; 

President of the Anthropological Section of 

the British Association, 1910 ; President of 

the Folklore Society, 1911-12; late of the 

Bengal Civil Service. 

Dravidiana (North India), Dwarka, Edu. 

cation (Hindu), Elephanta, EUora, 

Fatehpur-Sikri. 

Davids (T. W. Rhys), LL.D., Ph.D., D.So. 

Professor of Comparative Religion, Man- 
chester ; President of the Pali Text Society ; 
Fellow of the British Academy ; author of 
Buddhism (1878), Questions of King Milinda 
(1890-94), Buddhist India{l902), Early Bud- 
dhism (1908). 

Elder (Buddhist), Expiation and Atone- 
ment (Buddhist), Family (Buddhist). 

Davids (Mrs. Rhys), M.A. 

Lecturer on Indian Philosophy in the Uni- 
versity of Manchester. 
Egoism (Buddhist). 

Davidson (William Leslie), M.A., LL.D. 

Professor of Logic and Metaphysics in the 
University of Aberdeen ; author of The 
Logic of Definition, Theism as grounded in 
Human Nature, Christian Ethics, The Stoic 
Creed. 
Dualism (Greek), Envy and Emulation. 

Denney (James), D.D. 

Professor of New Testament Language, Litera- 
ture, and Theology, in the United Free 
Church College, Glasgow ; author of Studies 
in Theology, The Atonement and the Modern 
Mind. 
Fall (Biblical). 

Dhalla (Dastur Dr. Maneckji Nusservanji), 
M.A., Ph.D. 
High Priest of the Parsis of Sind, Panjab, and 
Baluchistan. 

Expiation and Atonement (Parsi). 

DORNER (August), Dr. Theol. nnd Philos. 

Ordentlicher Professor an der UniversitAt zu 
Kfinigsberg. 

Emancipation, Emotions, Fate (Introduc- 
tory). 

Driver (Samuel Rolles), D.D., Hon. Litt.D. 
(Dublin), Hon. D.D. (Glas. and Aber.). 
Regius Professor of Hebrew, and Canon of 
ChristChurch, Oxford ; Fellow of the British 
Academy ; Corresponding Member of the 
Royal Prussian Academy of Sciences. 
Expiation and Atonement (Hebrew). 

Duff (J. Wight), M.A. (Aber. et Oxon.), D.Litt. 
(Durham), D.Litt. (Oxon.). 
Professor of Classic<!, Armstrong College (in 
the University of Durham), Newcastle-upon- 
Tyne ; author of A Literary History of 
Rome. 
Education (Roman). 



AUTHORS OP ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



Dukes (Edwin J.). 

Minister of St. Paul's Chapel, Kentish Town, 
London ; formerly London Society Mission- 
a]7 in China ; author of Everyday Life in 
China. 
Feng-shui. 

DUNLOP (F. W.), M.A., Ph.D. 

Minister at Annandale, Sydney, Australia. 
Essence. 

Ehrhaedt (Christian EuofeNE). 

Professeur honoraire de I'Universit^ ; Pro- 
fesseur & la Faculty libre de Th6ologie 
protestante de Paris; Pasteur k Bourg-la- 
Beine (Consistoire de Paris). 
Equiprobabilism. 

Elwoethy (Fkedekick Thomas). 
Author of The Evil Eye. 
Evil Eye. 

EucKEN (Rudolf Christoph), Dr. theol. u. philos. 

Geheimer Rat ; ordentlicher Professor der 

Philosophie an der Universit&t zu Jena; 

Verfasser von HauptprobUme der Beli- 

gionsphilosophie der Gegemoart. 

Dualism. 

Evans (John Young), M.A., B.D. 

Professor of Church History and Patristic 
Literature at the Theological College, 
Aberystwyth. 
Erastianism. 

Fairbanks (Arthur), Ph.D. (Freiburg i. B.), 
Litt.D. (Dartmouth College). 
Professor of Greek Literature and Greek 
Archaeology in the State University of Iowa, 
1900-1906; in the University of Michigan, 
190ft-1907 ; Director of the Museum of Fine 
Arts, Boston, 1907. 
Expiation and Atonement (Greek), Family 
(Greek). 

Fallaize (Edwin Nicholas Collingford), 
B.A. (Oxon.). 
Late King Charles Exhibitioner, Exeter Col- 
lege, Oxford ; Recorder, Section H (Anthro- 
pology) of the British Association for the 
Advancement of Science. 
Family (Primitive). 

FOETESCUE (Adrian), Ph.D., D.D. (Innsbruck). 
Romsin Catholic Priest at Letchworth ; author 
of The Orthodox Eastern Church (1907), 
The Mass: A Stvdy of the Roman Liturgy 
(1912). 
Febronianism. 

FOUCART (George B.), Docteur fes-Lettres. 

Professeur d'Histoire des Religions h, I'Univer- 
sit^ d'Aix- Marseille ; Professeur h, I'Institut 
Colonial de Marseille (Religions et coutumes 
des peuples d'Afrique) ; Ancien Inspectear 
en chef du Service des Antiquit^s de 
rfigypte ; autenr de Histoire des Religiont 
et Muhode Comparative'' (1^12). 
Dreams and Sleep (Egyptian), Dualism 
(Egyptian), Festivals and Fasts (Egyp- 
tian). 

Fbazer (Robert W.), LL.B., LC.8. (Retired). 
Lecturer in Tamil and Telugu, University Col- 
lege, London ; Principal Librarian, London 
Institution ; author of A Literary History 
of India. 

Dravidians (South India). 



Gardiner (Alan Henderson), D.Litt. (Oxon.). 
Reader in Egyptology at Manchester Univer- 
sity ; formerly Laycock Student of Egypt- 
ology at Worcester College, Oxford, and 
Sub-editor of the Hieroglywiic Dictionary of 
the German Academies at Berlin. 
Ethics and Morality (Egyptian). 

Gkden (Alfred S.), M.A. (Oxon.), D.D. (Aber.). 
Professor of Old Testament Languages and 
Literature, and of Comparative Religion, in 
the Wesleyan College, Richmond, Surrey ; 
author of Stiidies in Religions of the East, 
Outlines of Introduction to the Hebrew Bible ; 
translator of P. Deussen's Philosophy of the 
Vpanishads. 
Education (Buddhist), Fate (Buddhist). 

Geffcken (Dr. Johannes). 

Ordentlicher Professor der Klass. Philologie 
an der Universitat zu Rostock. 
Euhemerism, Eumenides. 

Geeig (John Lawrence), M.A., Ph.D. 

Associate Professor of Romance Languages and 
Celtic in Columbia University, New York. 
Ethics and Morality (Celtic). 

Gerini (Colonel G. E.), M.R.A.S. 

Late Director of Military Education, R. 
Siamese Army; Honorary Member of the 
Siam Society. 
Festivals and Fasts (Siamese). 

Goldziher (Ignaz), Ph.D., D.Litt., LL.D. 

Professor of Semitic Philology in the Uni- 
versity of Budapest ; Ord. Member and 
Class-President of the Hungarian Academy 
of Sciences ; Foreign Member of the British 
Academy, of the Imperial Academy of 
Sciences, St. Petersburg, of the Royal 
Academy of Sciences, Berlin, of the Indian 
Institute, The Hague, of the Jewish His- 
torical Society of England, of the Soci^t6 
Asiatique, Paris, 
Education (Muslim). 

Gray (Louis Herbert), Ph.D. 

Sometime Member of the Editorial Staff of the 
New International Encyclopedia, Oriental- 
ische Bibliographic, etc. ; Member of the 
American and German Oriental Societies, 
etc. ; author of Indo-Iranian Phonology 
(1902) ; translator of Vdsavadatta, a Sans- 
krit Romance by Subandhu (1912). 

Duelling^, Education (Persian), Eskimos, 
Ethics and Morality (Polynesian), Eu- 
nuch, Expiation and Atonement (In- 
troductory), Family (Persian), Fate 
(Iranian), Festivals and Fasts (Iranian). 
Geay (Mrs. Florence Lillian [Ridley]). 
Member of the American Oriental Society, 
Easter Island. 

Haldane (Elizabeth Sanderson), LL.D. 

Author of Life of James Ferrier (1899), Life 
of Descartes (1905), and joint-translator of 
HegeVs History of Philosophy {IS92), and The 
Philosophical Works of Descartes (1911-12). 
Encyclopaedists. 

Hall(H. B.), M.A., F.S.A. 

Assistant in the Department of Egyptian and 
Assyrian Antiquities in the British Museum. 
Expiation and Atonement (Egyptian), 
Family (Egyptian), Fate (Egyptian). 

Hannay (James Owen), M.A. 
Rector of Westport, Co. Mayo. 
Eustathiua. 



Till 



AUTHORS OF ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



Habaoa (Tasuku), D.D., LL.D. 

President of Doshi»lia University, Kyoto, 
Family (Japanese). 

Harbison (Jane Ellkn), LL.D. (Aber.), D.Litt. 
(Dnrham). 
Statr Lecturer in Classics at Newnham College, 
Cambridge ; Corresponding Member of the 
German Arehteological Society ; author of 
ProUgomena to the Study of Greek Religion. 
Fan. 

Hekbiq (Dr. GrSTAV). 

Kgl. Bibliothekar an der Hof- nnd Sta&ts- 
bibliothek ; Privatdozent fiir indogerman- 
ische Sprachwissenschaft and Etroskologie 
an der Universit&t zn MUnchen. 
Etruscan Religion. 

Hicks (Robkht Brew), M.A. 

Fellow and formerly Classical Lecturer of 
Trinity College, Cambridge. 
Empedocles, Epicureans. 

HaLEBRANDT (A. F. Altred), Ph.D. (Munich), 
LL.D. 
Ord. Professor of Sanskrit and Comparative 
Philology in the University of Breslau j 
Corresponding Member of the Konigliche 
Gesellschaft der Wisaenschaften zu Gottin- 
gen, and of the Royal Bavarian Academy of 
Sciences ; Geheimer liegiemngsrat. 
Dyaus. 

Hopkins (Edward Washburn), Ph.D., LL.D. 
Professor of Sanskrit and Comparative Philo- 
logy in Yale University ; former President 
of the American Oriental Society; author 
of Religions of India. 
Festivals and Fasts (Hindu). 

Hughes (Henry Maldwtn), B.A., D.D. 

Author of The Ethict of Jetoish Apocryphal 
Literature. 

Experience (Religious). 

Hull (Eleanor). 

Hon. Sec. of the Irish Texts Society, London ; 
Member of Council of tlie Folklore and Irish 
Literary Societies ; author of The Cuchullin 
Saga tn Irish Literature (1898), Pagan 
Ireland (1904), Early Christian Ireland 
(1905), A Text-book of Irish Literature 
(1907-8). 
Fate (Celtic). 

Htslop (James Hervey), Ph.D., LL.D. 

Secretary of the American Society for Psychi- 
cal Research ; formerly Professor of Logic 
and Ethics in Columbia University. 
Energn^, Equity. 

Inge (William Ralph), D.D. 

Dean of St. Paul's; author of Faith and 
Knmoledge, Studies of English Mystics, 
Personal Idealism and Mysticism. 
Ecstasy. 

IVERACTi (James), M.A., D.D. 

Principal, and Professor of New Testament 
Language and Literature, in the United 
Free Cliurcli College, Aberdeen ; author of 
Is God Knowablef (1887), Evolution and 
CKriitianity (1894), Theism in the Light of 
Present Science and Philosophy (1900), 
Descartes and Spinoza (1904). 
Epistemology. 



Jacobi (Hermann), Ph.D. 

Professor des Sanskrit an der Universit&t zu 
Bonn ; Geheimer Regierungsrat. 
Dnrga. 

Jacobs (Joseph), B.A. (Camb. and Lond.), LittD. 
(Penn.). 
Professor of English Literature at the Jewish 
Theological Seminary of America ; formerly 
President of the Jewish Historical Society 
of England ; formerly editor of Folklore, 
Fable. 

Jeremias (Alfred), Ph.D. (Leipzig), Lie. Theol. 
hon. c (Leipzig). 
Pfarrer in Leipzig und Dozent an der Uni- 
versit&t. 
Ethics and Morality (Babylonian). 

Jolly (Julius), Ph.D. (Munich), Hon. M.D. (Get- 
tingen), Hon. D.Litt. (Oxford). 
Ord. Professor of Sanskrit and Comparative 
Philology and Director of the Linguistic 
Seminary in the University of Wiirzburg ; 
formerly Tagore Professor of Law in the 
University of Calcutta. 
Ethics and Morality (Hindu), Expiation 
and Atonement(Hindu), Family (Hindu), 
Fate (Hindu). 

J6N8SON (FiNNUR), Dr.Phil. 

Profes.sor ordinarius of Northern Philology in 
the University of Copenhagen. 
Eddas. 

Joseph (Morris). 

Senior Minister of the West London Syna- 
gogue. 
Education (Jewish). 

JUYNBOLL (Th. W.), Dr. juris et phil. 

Adjutor interprets ' Legati Wameriani,' 
Leyden. 
Eunuch (Muslim). 

Keane (Augustus Henry), LL.D., F.R.G.S., 
F.R.A.I. 
Late Vice-President of the Royal Anthropo- 
logical Institute ; late Professor of Hindu- 
stani in University College, London ; author 
of Ethnology, Man Past and Present. 
Ethnology, Europe. 

King (Irving), Ph.D. 

Assistant Professor of Education in the State 
University of Iowa ; Fellow of the American 
Association for the Advancement of Science. 
Ethics and Morality (Australian). 

Kino (Leonard William), M.A., F.S.A. 

Assistant in the Department of Egyptian 
and Assyrian Antiq^uities in the British 
Museum ; Lecturer in Assyrian at King's 
College, London. 
Fate (Babylonian). 

Knight (G. A. Frank), M.A., F.R.S.E. 

Minister of St. Leonard's United Free Church, 
Perth. 
Feet-washingf. 

Lak«(Kibsopp), M.A. (Oxon.),D.D. (St Andrews). 
Professor of New "Testament Exegesis and the 
History of Early Christian Literature in the 
University of I^yden. 
Epiphany. 



AUTHORS OF ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



IX 



Lang (Andrew), M.A., D.Litt., D.C.L., LL.D. 

Autlior of Custom atid Myth (1884), Myth, 
Ritual and Religion (1887), The Making of 
Religion (1898), Magic and Religion (1901). 

Dreams and Sleep (Introductory). 

Lancdon (Stephen Herbebt), B.D., Ph.D., Hon. 
M.A. (Oxon.). 
Shillito Reader in Assyriology and Com- 
parative Semitic Philology in the Uni- 
versity of Oxford ; author of Neo-Baby- 
Ionian Royal Inscriptions (V.A.B. vol. 
iv.), Sumerian and Babylonian Psalms, A 
Sumerian Grammar, Babylonian Liturgies. 

Expiation and Atonement (Babylonian). 

Leoer (Louis). 

Membre de I'lnstitnt de France ; Professeur au 
College de France ; Professeur honoraire h. 
I'Ecole des langues orientales. 

Festivals and Fasts (Slavic). 

Lehmann (Edvabd), D.TheoL, D.Phil. 

Ordentlicher Professor der Theologie (Re- 
ligionsgeschichte und Philosophie) an der 
Universitat zu Berlin. 

Ethics and Morality (Parsi). 

Lodge (Rupert Clendon), B.A. 

Late John Locke Scholar, Oxford ; late Junior 
Lecturer in Philosophy in the University of 
Manchester. 

Empiricism. 

LoEWE (Herbert Martin James), M.A. 

Curator of Oriental Literature in the Uni- 
versity Library ; Director of Oriental 
Studies, St. Catharine's College, Cambridge. 

Expiation and Atonement (Jewish). 

MacCulloch (John Abnott), Hon. D.D. (St. 
Andrews). 
Rector of St. Saviour's, Bridge of Allan ; Hon. 
Canon of the Cathedral of the Holy Spirit, 
Cnmbrae ; Examiner in Comparative Re- 
ligion and Philosophy of Religion, Victoria 
University, Manchester ; Bell Lecturer, 
Edinburgh Theological College ; author of 
Comparative Theology ; Religion : its Origin 
and Forms; The Childhood of Fiction; The 
Religion of the Ancient Celts; Early Chris- 
tian Visions of the Other- World. 

Druids, Dualism (Celtic), Earth and 
Earth-Gods, Eschatolo^, Euphemism, 
Fairy, Fall (Ethnic), Fasting (Intro- 
ductory and non-Christian), Feasting 
(Introductory), Festivals and Fasts 
(Celtic). 

Macobeoor (Annie Euzabeth Frances), B.A. 
(Lond.). 

Ethical Discipline. 

MclNTYRE (James Lewis), M.A. (Edin. and 
Oxon.), D.Sc. (Edin.). 
• Anderson Lecturer in Comparative Psychology 
to the University of Aberdeen j Lecturer in 
Psychology, Logic, and Etiiics to the Aber- 
deen I'rovmcial Committee for the Training 
of Teachers ; formerly Examiner in Philo- 
sophy to the University of Edinburgh; 
author of Giordano Bruno (1903). 

Fear, Fearlessness. 



Mackenzie (Donald), M.A. 

Minister of the United Free Church at Craig- 
dani ; Assistant in Logic in the University 
of Aberdeen, 190^-1909. 

Ethics and Morality (Christian). 

Mackenzie (John Stuart), LittD., LL.D. 

Professor of Philosophy in University College, 
Carditf. 

Eternity. 

Maclaoan (P. J.), M.A., D.Phil. 

Of the English Presbyterian Mission, Swatow. 
Education (Chinese), Family (Chinese). 

Maclean (Arthur John), D.D. (Camb.), Hon. 
D.D. (Glas.). 
Bishop of Moray, Ross, and Caithness. 
Fasting (Christian). 

Maclean (Magnus), M.A., D.Sc, F.R.S.E. 

Professor of Electrical Engineering in the 
Royal Technical College, Glasgow. 

Feinn Cycle. 

Macler (Fr^d^ric). 

Ancien Attach^ b, la Biblioth^ue Nationale ; 
Laur^at de I'lnstitut ; Professeur d'Arm^nien 
k rficole des Langues orientales vivantes. 

Festivals and Fasts (Armenian). 

MacRitchie (David), F.S.A. (Scot, and Ireland). 
Member of the Royal Anthropological Institute 
of Great Britain and Ireland ; President of 
the St. Andrew Society, Edinburgh ; autlior 
of Ancient and Modern Britons ; Fians, 
Fairies and Picts; Scottish Gypsies under 
the Stetearts. 

Dwarfs and Pygmies. 

Mair (Alexander), M.A. 

Professor of Philosophy in the University of 
Liverpool. 

End. 

Marett (Robert Ranulph), M.A., F.R.A.I. 
Fellow of Exeter College, and Reader in Social 
Anthropology in the University of Oxford ; 
author of The Threshold of Religion. 

Ethics (Rudimentary). 

Margoliouth (David Samuel), M.A., D.Litt. 
Fellow of New College, and Laudian Professor 
of Arabic in the University of Oxford ; author 
of Mohammad and the Rise of Islam, Moham- 
medanism. 

Expiation and Atonement (Muslim), Fall 
(Muslim). 

Margoliouth (George), M.A. (Cantab.). 

Senior Assistant in the Department of Oriental 
Printed Books and MSS in the British 
Museum. 

Feasting (Hebrew and Jewish). 

Martin (Alexandeb Stuart), M.A., B.D. 

Formerly Pitt Scliolar and Examiner in 
Theology in the Univer.^ity of Edinburgh, 
and Minister of the West Parish of St. 
Nicholas, Aberdeen. 

Election. 



AUTHORS OF ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



Marvin (Walter Taylor), Ph.D. 

I'rofessor in Uutgern College, New Jersey. 
Equivocation (Logical). 

Mavor (James), Ph.D. 

Professor of Political Economy in the Uni- 
veruity of Toronto ; author of The Scottish 
RaUieay Strike. 
Employment. 

MOFFATT (James), D.D., D.Litt. 

Yates Professor of New Testament Greek and 
Exegesis, Mansfield College, Oxford ; author 
of Critical Introduction to New Testament 
Literature. 
Essenes. 

MooK (EuoEN), Dr.Phil. 

Professor der nordischen Philologie an der 
Universit&t zu Leipzig. 
Expiation and Atonement (Teutonic). 

Moore (William), M.A. 

Rector of Appleton, Berks; formerly Fellow 
of Magdalen College, and Lecturer of St. 
John's College, Oxford ; translator of the 
Philosophical Treatises of Gregory of 
Nyssa. 
Eunomianism. 

Morgan (William), D.D. 

Professor of Systematic Theology in Queen's 
College, lUngston, Canada ; formerly 
Minister of the United Free Church at Tar- 
bolton. 
Faith (Christian). 

Muirhead (John Henry), LL.D. 

Professor of Philosophy in the University of 
Birmingham ; author of Elements of Ethics, 
The Service of the State. 
Ethics. 

McRisoN (William), M.A. 

Senior English Master in Aherdeen Grammar 
School ; author of ' Education,' in A Com- 
panion to Latin Studies. 
Education (Greek). 

MtniRAY (Gilbert), LL.D., D.Litt., F.B.A. 

Regius Professor of Greek in the University 
of Oxford. 
Euripides. 

Nkilson (George), LL.D. 

The Stipendiary Magistrate of Glasgow; 
author of Trial by Combat. 
Duelling. 

Oer (James), M.A., D.D. 

Professor of Systematic Theology and Apolo- 
getics in the United Free Church College, 
Glasgow ; author of The Christian View of 
God and the World, David Hume in the 
' Epoch Makers ' series, 
Enhypostasis. 

Pearson (A. C), M.A. 

Late Scholar of Christ's College, Cambridge ; 
editor of Fragments of Zeno and Cleanthes, 
Euripides' Helena, Heraclidw, and Phamissas. 
Ethics and Morality (Greek). 

Petrie (William Matthew Flinders), D.C.L. 
(Oxon.), LL.1). (Edin. and Aber.), Litt.D. 
(Camb.), Ph.D. (Strassburg). 
Fellow of the Royal Societv and of the British 
Academy ; Edwards Professor of Egyptology 
in the I niversity of London. 
Egyptian Religion. 



Philups (David), B.A. (Wales), M.A. (Canteb.). 
Professor of the Philosophy and History of 
Religion in the Theological College, Bala, 
North Wales. 
Ego, Egoism. 

Phillpotts (Bertha Surtees), M.A. (Dublin). 
Fellow of the Royal Society of Northern Anti- 
quaries (Copenhagen) ; formerly Librarian of 
Girton College, Cambridge. 
Dreams and Sleep (Teutonic), Ethics and 
Morality (Teutonic), Festivals and 
Fasts (Teutonic). 

Pinches (Theophilus Goldridoe), LL.D. (Glas.), 
M.R.A.S. 
Lecturer in Assyrian at University College, 
London, and at the Institute of Archaeology, 
Liverpool ; Hon. Member of the Societe 
Asiatique. 
Elamites, Family (Assyro-Babylonian). 

PORPHYRIOS II. (LOOOTHETES), Ph.D. (Leipzig), 
Hon. LL.D. (Cantab.). 
Archbishop of Sinai, Paran, and Raitho. 
Eastern Church. 

POZNA^SKI (Samuel), Ph.D. (Heidelberg). 

Rabbiner und Prediger in Warschau (Polen). 
Festivals and Fasts (Jewish). 

Punnett (Reginald Crundall), M.A. 

Professor of BioWgy in the University of Cam- 
bridge ; author of Mendelism. 
Environment (Biological), Evolution (Bio- 
logical). 

BADERMACHER (Dr. LUDWIG). 

Ordentlicher Professor der klassischen Philo- 
logie an der Universitat zu Wien. 
Enthusiasm. 

Radin (Paul), Ph.D. 

Field Ethnologist, Geological Survey of 
Canada. 
Eskimos. 

Rose (Herbert Jennings), M.A. (Oxon.). 

Associate Professor of Classics in McGill Uni- 
versity, Montreal ; sometime Fellow of 
Exeter College, Oxford. 
Euthanasia, Festivals and Fasts (Greek). 

Ross (John M. E.), M.A. 

Minister of St. Ninian's Presbyterian Church, 
Golders Green, London ; author of The Self- 
Portraiture of Jesus, The Christian Stand- 
point. 
Emerson. 

RoYCE (Josiah), Ph.D., LL.D. 

Professor of the History of Philosophy in Har- 
vard University ; Gift'ord Lecturer at the 
University of Aberdeen, 1898-1900. 
Error and Truth. 

Salmond (William), D.D. 

Professor of Mental and Moral Science in the 
University of Otago, Dunedin. 
Feeling. 

Sayce (Archibald Henry), D.Litt. (Oxon.), 
LL.D. (Dublin), D.D. (Edin. and Aber.). 
Fellow of Queen's College and Professor of 
Assyriology in the University of Oxford ; 
President of the Society of Biblical 
Archteology. 
Dreams and Sleep (Babylonian). 



AUTHORS OF ARTICLES IN THIS VOLUME 



ScHAFF (David Schley), D.D. (Univ. of Geneva, 
etc.). 
Professor of Church History in the Western 
Theological Seminary, Pittsburgh, Pa. 
Evang'elical Alliance. 

SCHRADER (Otto^, Dr. phil. et jur. h.c. 

Ordentlicher Professor fttr vergleichende 
Sprachforschung an der Universitat zu Bres- 
lau ; author of Prehistoric Antiquities of 
the Aryan Peebles. 
Family (Teutonic and Balto-Slavic). 

ScHULHOF (John Maurice), M.A. (Cantab, et 
Oxon.). 
Clare College ; sometime Scholar of Trinity 
College, Cambridge; late Fellow of St. 
Augustine College, Canterbury. 
Eudsemonism. 

SooTT (Charles Anderson), M.A. (Camb.), D.D. 
(Aber.). 
Professor of New Testament in Westminster 
CoUege, Cambridge. 
Eudoxianism. 

Sbll (Edward), B.D., D.D., M.R.A.S. 

Fellow of the University of Madras ; Hon. 
Canon of St. George's Cathedral, Madras ; 
Secretary of the Church Missionary Society, 
Madras ; author of The Faith of Islam, The 
Historical Development of the Qur'an. 
Faith (Muslim). 

Shaw (Charles Gray), Ph.D. 

Professor of Philosophy in the University of 
New York ; author of Christianity and 
Modern Culture, The Precinct of Religion, 
The Value and Dignity of Human Life, 
Enlightenment. 

Speight (Harold Edwin Balme), M.A, 

Fellow of Manchester College, Oxford ; Junior 
Minister of Essex Church, Kensington ; for- 
merly Assistant Professor of Logic and 
Metaphysics in the University of Al^rdeen. 
— • Fichte. 

Spbnce (Lewis). 

Edinburgh ; anther of Mytholoaie* of Ancient 
Mexico and Peru, The Popol Vxih, A Dic- 
tionary of Mythology, The Civilisation of 
Ancient Mexico, 
Dualism (American), Fetishism (Ameri- 
can). 

Spiller (Gustav). 

General Secretary of the International Union 
of Ethical Societies ; Hon. Secretary of the 
World Conferences for promoting Inter- 
racial Concord ; Hon. Organizer of the First 
International Moral Education Congress. 
Education (Moral), Ethical Movement. 

Skawley (James Herbert), D.D. 

Tutor and Theological Lecturer in Selwyn 
College, Cambridge ; Examining Chaplain 
to the Bishop of Lichiield. 
Eucharist (to end of Middle Ages). 

Stalker (James), M.A., D.D. 

Professor of Church History in the United 
Free Church College, Aberdeen. 
Evangelicalism. 

Starbuck (Edwin Diller), Ph.D. 

Professor of Philosophy in the State Uni- 
versity of Iowa ; author of The Psychology 
of Religion. 
Female Principle. 



Stevenson (Mrs. Margaret Sinclair), M.A., 
ScD. 
Of the Irish Mission, Rajkot, India ; some- 
time Scholar of Somerville College, Oxford ; 
author of Notes on Modem Jainism. 
Festivals and Fasts (Jain). 

Stock (St. George), M.A. 

Lecturer in Greek in the University of Bir- 
mingham ; author of English Thought for 
English Thinkers. 
Fate (Greek and Roman). 

Stone (Darwell), M.A., D.D. 

Principal Pusey Librarian, Oxford ; author 
of A History of the Doctrine of the Holy 
Eucharist. 
Episcopacy. 

Steahan (James), M.A. 

Edinburgh ; author of Hebrew Ideals, 

Encratites, Euchites, Family (Biblical 
and Christian). 

SuFFEiN (Aaron Emmanuel), M.A. (Oxon.). 
Vicar of Waterlooville, Hants. 

Dualism (Jewish), Fate (Jewish). 

Sutherland (J. F.), M.D., F.R.S.E., F.S.S. 

Late Deputy Commissioner in Lunacy for 
Scotland. 

Drunkenness. 

Tachibana (Shundo). 

Professor in the Soto-Sect College, Tokyo. 
Ethics and Morality (Japanese). 

Taylor (Alfred Edward), M.A. (Oxon.), D.Litt. 
(St. Andrews). 
Professor of Moral Philosophy in the United 
College of SS. Salvator and Leonard, St. 
Andrews ; late Fellow of Merton College, 
Oxford ; Fellow of the British Academy ; 
author of The Problem of Conduct (1901), 
Elements of Metaphysics (1903), Varia 
Socratica (1911). 
Dreams and Sleep (Introductory). 

Temple (Lt.-Col. Sir Richard C, Bart.), CLE. 
Hon. Fellow of Trinity Hall, Cambridge ; 
late of the Indian Army ; Deputy Com- 
missioner, Burma, 1888-94 ; Chief Com- 
missioner, Andaman and Nicobar Islands, 
1894-1903 ; editor of the Indian Antiquary 
since 1884. 
Fetishism (Indian). 

Thurston (Herbert), B.A., S.J. 

Joint-Editor of the Westminster Library for 
Priests and Students ; author of Life of 
St, Hugh of Lincoln, The Holy Year of 
Jubilee, The Stations of the Cross. 
Extreme Unction. 

Turner (Stanley Horsfall), M.A., D.Litt. 

Fellow of the Royal Economic Society ; Deputy 
Chief Inspector for Scotland to the National 
Health Insurance Commission ; formerly 
Lecturer in Political Economy in the Uni- 
versity of Aberdeen. 
Economics, Fabiiui Society. 

VoLLERS (Karl), Dr.Phil. 

Ehemals Professor der Semitischen Sprachen 
an der Universitat, und Direktor des Gross- 
herzogl. Mnnzkabinets, Jena. 
Festivals and Fasts (Muslim). 



lii 



CROSS-REFERENCES 



Waddell (Lt. -Colonel L. Austink), C.B., CLE., 
LL.D., F.L.S., F.R.A.I., M.R.A.S., I.M.S. 
Late Professor of Tibetan in UniverBity Col- 
leee, London ; author of The Buddhism of 
TU>el, Tribes of the Brahmaputra Vailey, 
Lhasa and its Mysteries. 

FestiTals and Fasts (Tibetan). 



Walshe (W. Gilbkbt), M.A. 

London Secretary of Christian Literature 
Society for China; late 'James Lone' Lec- 
turer ; author of Confucius ana Con- 
fucianism ; editor of China, 

Fate (Chinese). 



Warfield (Bekjahin Breckinridge), D.D., 
LL.D., Litt.D. 
Charles Hodge Professor of Didactic and 
Polemic Theology in the Theological Semi- 
nary of the Presbyterian Church in the 
U.S.A. at Princeton, New Jersey. 

Edwards and the New England Theology. 



Watt (Hugh), M.A., B.D. 

Minister of the United Free Church at Bears- 
den, Dumbartonshire ; Examiner in Church 
History to the United Free Church. 

Eucharist (Reformation and post-Reforma- 
tion period). 

Whitlev (William Thomas), M.A., LL.D., 
F.R.Hi8t.S., F.T.S. 
Secretary of the Baptist Historical Society ; 
formerly Principal of the Baptist College of 
Victoria, and Secretary of the Victorian 
Baptist Foreign Mission. 
Enthusiasts (Religions). 

WissowA (Georg), Dr. jur. et phil. 

Ordentlicher Professor an der UniversitSt «u 
Halle ; Greheimer Regierungsrat. 
Expiation and Atonement (Roman). 

Woods (Francis Henry), M.A., B.D. 

Rector of Bainton, Yorkshire ; late Fellow 
and Theological Lecturer of St. John's 
College, Oxford. 
Festivals and Fasts (Hebrew). 



CROSS-REFERENCES 



In addition to the cross-references throughout the volume, the following list 
of minor references may be useful : 



Topia 
Dutch East Indies 
Dutch Reformed Church 
Dyaks . 
Dyophysitism 
Dyothelitism 
Eagle . 
Earth-mother 
East . 
Easter . 



Ecclesiastidsm 



Eclecticism 
Eel . 
Effigy . 
Egg . 

Elephant 



Probable Titlk of Articlk, 

Indonesia. 

Reformed Church. 

Indonesia. 

Monophysitism. 

Monothelitism. 

Animals. 

Earth, Earth-gods. 

Orientation. 

Calendar (Christian), Fes- 
tivals and Fasts (Chris- 
tian). 

Clericalism and Anti- 
Clericalism. 

Philosophy (Greek). 

Animals. 

Magic. 

Cosmogony and Cosmo- 
logy. 

Animals. 



Topia 
Elves . . t . 

Emperor-worship , 

Ephod .... 
Epilepsy . 
Erigena . 
Eternal Life . . 

Ethiopian Church . 
Evangelical Association 
Evangelical Counsels . 
Evangelical Union 
Execration . 
False Witness 
Familiar Spirit 
Fanaticism . 
Fellowships . 



Fkobabli Tttli of Articlx. 

Demons and Spirits, 
Fairy. 

Csesarism, Deification. 

Dress. 

Disease and Medicine. 

Scholasticism. 

Life and Death, Ethics 
(Christian). 

Abyssinia. 

Sects (Modern Christian). 

Counsels and Precepts. 

Presbyterianism. 

Cursing and Blessing. 

Oaths. 

Demons and Spirits. 

Enthusiasts (Religious). 

Brotherhoods, Commun- 
istic Societies, Monas- 
ticism. 



yf 



LISTS OF ABBREVIATIONS 



L General 



A.H. =Anno Hijrae (A.D. 622), 

Ak.= Akkadian. 

Alex. = Alexandrian. 

Amer. = American. 

Apoc.= Apocalypse, Apocalyptic. 

Apocr. = Apocrypha. 

Aq. =Aquila. 

Arab. = Arabic. 

Aram. = Aramaic. 

Arm. = Armenian. 

Ary. = Aryan. 

As. = Asiatic. 

Assyr. = Assyrian. 

AT = Altes Testament. 

AV= Authorized Version. 

AVni= Authorized Version margin. 

A.y.=Anno Yazdagird (A.D. 639). 

Bab. = Babylonian. 

c.= circa, aoout. 

Can. = Canaanite. 

of. = compare. 

ct. = contrast. 

D = Deuteronomist. 

E = Elohist. 

edd. = editions or editom 

Egj'p. = Egyptian. 

Eng. = English. 

Eth.=Etiriopie. 

EV = English Version. 

f. =and following verse or page : as Ac 10*"' 

ff. =and following verses or pages : as Mt !!'*'• 

Fr. = French. 

Germ. = German. 

Gr. = Greek. 

H = Law of Holiness. 

Heb. = Hebrew. 

Hel. = Hellenistic. 

Hex. = Hexateuch. 

Himy. = Himyaritic 

Ir. = Irish. 

Iran. = Iranian. 



Isr. = Israelite. 

J=Jahwist. 

J" = Jehovah. 

Jems. = Jerusalem. 

Jos. = Josephus. 

LXX = Septuagint. 

Min. =Min8ean. 

MSS = Manuscripts. 

MT = Massoretic Text. 

n. =note. 

NT = New Testament. 

Onk. = Onk elos. 

0T = 01d Testament. 

P= Priestly Narrative. 

Pal. = Palestine, Palestinian. 

Pent. = Pentateuch. 

Pers.= Persian. 

Phil.=Pluli8tine. 

Phoen. = Phoenician. 

Pr. Bk. = Prayer Book. 

R = Redactor. 

Rom. = Roman. 

RV = Revised Version. 

RVm = Revised Version margin. 

Sab. = Sabiean. 

Sam. = Samaritan. 

Sem.= Semitic. 

Sept. = Septuagint. 

Sin. =Sinaitic. 

Skr.= Sanskrit. 

Symm. =Syraraachas. 

Syr. =Syriac. 

t. (following a number) = times. 

Talm.= Talmud. 

Targ. =Targum. 

Theod. =Theo<lotion. 

TR = Textus Receptus. 

tr. = translated or translation. 

VSS= Versions. 

VnlK.= Vulgate. 

WH=Westoott and Hort's text. 



II. Boors op the Bible 



Old Testament. 



Gn = Genesis. 

Ex = Exodus. 

Lv = Leviticus. 

Nu = Numbers. 

Dt = Deuteronomy. 

Jos = Joshua. 

Jg= Judges. 

Ru = Ruth. 

18,2 8 = 1 and 2 Samuel. 

1 K, 2K=1 and 2 Kings. 

1 Ch, 2 Ch = l and 2 

Chronicles. 
Ezr = Ezra. 
Neh = Nehemiah. 
Est = Esther. 
Job. 

P» = Psalms. 
Pr = Proverbs. 
Ec = Ecclesiastes. 

Apocrypha. 
1 Es, 2 E8=l and 2 To = Tobit. 
EsJras. Jth= Judith. 



Ca = Canticles. 
Is = Isaiah. 
Jer = Jereniiah. 
La = Lamentations. 
Ezk = Ezekiel. 
Dn = Daniel. 
Ho8 = Hosea. 
Jl = JoeI. 
Am = Amos. 
Ob=Obadiah. 
Jon = Jonah. 
Mic = Micah. 
Nali = Nalium. 
Hab = Habakknk. 
Zeph = Zephaniah. 
Hag=Haj:f,'ai. 
Zee = Zecliariah. 
Mal = MaIachi. 



Ad. Est = Additions to Sus = Susanna. 

Esther. Bel = Bel and the 

Wis = Wisdom. Dragon. 

Sir = Siracli or Ecclesi- Pr. Nian = Prayer of 

asticus. Manasses. 

Bar=15aruch. 1 Mac, 2 Mac = l and 2 

Three = Song of the Three Maccabees. 

Children. 

New Testament. 



Mt = JIattliew. 

Mk = Mark. 

Lk = Luke. 

Jn = John. 

Ac = Acts. 

Ro = Romans. 

1 Co, 2 Co = 1 and 2 

Corinthians. 
GaI = Galatians. . 
Eph = Ephesian8. 
Ph = Philipi>ian3. 
Col = Colos8ians. 



1 Th, 2 Th = l and 2 

Thcssalonians. 
1 Ti, 2 Ti=l and 2 

Timothy. 
Tit = Titus. 
Philem = Philemon. 
He = Hebrews. 
Ja = James. 

1 P, 2 P= land 2 Peter. 
1 Jn, 2 Jn, 3 Jn = l, 2, 

and 3 John. 
Jnde. 
Rev = Revelation. 



xiii 



XiT 



LISTS OF ABBREVIATIONS 



III. Fob the Literature 

1. The following anthors' names, when onaccompanied by the title of a book, stand for 

the works in the list below. 



'BiLethgea = BeUrdge tur sem. Seligiontgach., 1888. 
Baldwin = Z>u-<. of Philotophy and Psychology, 

S vols. 1901-1906. 
^tjt)x = Iiominalbildung in den «etn. Spracken, 

2 vols. 1889, 1891 (M894). 
Benzineer=if(;6. ArchaoUgie, 1894. 
Brockelmann = (x6!cA. d. arab. Litteratur, 2 vols. 

1897-1902. 
Brans - Sachan = Syr. ■ Rom. Rechttbvch aut dent 

fitn/ten Jahrhundcrt, 1880. 
Budge =:Go<^ of the Egyptians, 2 vols. 1903. 
Dareniberg-Saglio=i>«;t. dcs ant. gree. et rom., 

1886-90. 
De la 8aus8aye=XeArfrucA der ReligUnuguch.*, 

I90S. 
Deosaen^Dte Pialo: d. Vpanithadi, 1899 [Eng. 

tr., 1906]. 
Donghty=.^raMa Deserta, 2 vols. 1888. 
GTimm = Deutsehe Mythologie*, 3 vols. 1875-1878, 

Eng. tr. Teutonic Mythology, 4 vols. 1882-1888. 
Ea,mh'aTgeT=JlealeneycMpddie/urBibel u. Talmud, 

i. 1870 ('1892), ii. 1883, suppl. 1886, 1891 f., 1897. 
BoXder =AltceUucher SprachscluUz, 1891 ff. 
Holtzmann-Z6pfirel = Z<zic<m/. Thed. «. Kirehen- 

weten'', 1895. 
Howitt=A^a<it« Tribes of S. E. Australia, 1904. 
Jubainville = Cottr» de L%tt. celti^ue, i.-xii., 1883 ff. 
lMgTa.age= Etudes sur les religions simitiques', 

1904. 
Lane = i4n Arabic-English Dictionary, 1863 ff. 
LangrrA/ytA, Ritual and Religion*, 2 vols. 1899. 
lje'pai\xs= Denkmdler aus yEgypten u. ^thiopien, 

1849-1860. 
Lichtenberger=£n«yc. des sciences rdigieuses, 1876. 
Lidzharski =J?atu/6ucA der nordsem. Epigraphik, 

1898. 
McCurdy =.ffwtory, Prophecy, and the Monuments, 

2 vols. 1894-1896. 
U\ax= Sanskrit Texts, 1858-1872. 
Mas8-Amolt = .i4 Concise Diet, of the Assyrian 

Language, 1894 ff. 



Nowack= XeArducA d. heb. Archdologie, 2 Tola. 

1894. 
Pauly-Wissowa= .Beo/eneyc. der classischen Alter- 

tumswissenschaft, 1893-1895. 
Perrot-Chipiez=2rMt. de VArt dans PAntiguUt, 

1881 ff. 
PreWer = Rdmiscke Mythologie, 1858. 
Vjkviil\e= Religion des peuples non-civilisis, 1883. 
'Riehra = Hanau>6rterbuch d. bibl. Altertums\ 1893- 

1894. 
Kohinaon^^ Biblical Researches in Palestine \ 1856. 
Ro8cher=X&r. d. gr. u. rbm^ Mythologie, 1884. 
Schaff-Herzog = rA« New Schaff-Herzog Encyclo- 
pedia of Relig. Knowledge, 1908 ff. 
Schenkel=£t6<!Z-i«x»con, 5 vols. 1869-1875. 
Schurer=GJ"K», 3 vols. 1898-1901 IHJP, 6 vols. 

1890 ff.]. 
SchwaUy=X«ien nocA dem Tode, 1892. 
Siegfried-Stade=5^e6. Wiirterbuch zum AT, 1893. 
^me:nA = Lehrbuckder alttest. Religionsgesch.', 1899. 
Smith (G. A.) = Historical Geography of the Holy 

Land*. 1896. 
Smith (W. R.) = Religion of the Semites*, 1894. 
Spencer (H.) = i'rt»tc»;>/M ^Sociology', 1885-1896. 
Spencer-Gillen' = Native Tribes of Central Australia, 

1899. 
Spencer-Gillen »> = Northern Tribes of Central 

Australia, 1904. 
Swete = rAe OT in Greek, 3 vols. 1893 ff. 
Tylor (E. "&.) = Primitive Culture*, 1891 [<1903]. 
Ueberweg=.ffw<. of Philosophy, Eng. tr., 2 vols. 

1872-1874. 
Weber = Jiidische Theologie auf Grund des Talmud 

u. verwandlen Schriften*, 1897. 
Wiedemann = Die Religion der alien ^gypter, 

1890 [Eng. tr., revised, Religion of t/ie Ane. 

Egyptians, 1897]. 
Wilkinson = Jlfann€r» and Customs of the Ancient 

Egmtians, 3 vols. 1878. 
Zwaz = 'Die gottesdienstlichen Vortrage der Juden*, 

1892. 



2. Periodicals, Dictionaries, Encyclopsedias, and other standard works frequently cited. 



AA = Archiv fur Antliropologie. 

AAOJ = American Antiquarian and Oriental 
Journal. 

i4£.i4ir=: Abhandlungen d. Berliner Akad. d. 
Wissenschaften. 

i<jB= Archiv fiir Ethnographie. 

AEG = Assyr. and Eng. Glossary (Johns Hopkins 
University). 

.<4GG =Abhandlungen d. G6ttinger Gesellschaft 
der Wissenschaften. 

./4GPA=Aichiv ftir Geschichte der Philosophie. 

./4£r.fi= American Historical Review. 

A HT= Ancient Hebrew Tradition (Hommel). 

./4 ./PA = American Joamal of Philosophy. 

AJPs = Amenca.n Journal of Psychology. 

>l^/fP£= American Journal of Religious Psycho- 
logy and Education. 

iliA££ = A>iierican Journal of Semitic Languages 
and Literature. 

j<J'rA = American Journal of Theology. 

.4JfG=Annales du Musie Guimet. 

APES= Amerk-AB Palestine Exploration Society. 

APF=AtcU'\v fiir PapyruHforschung. 

./4.B= Antliropological Review. 

ARW=Aic\iiv fiir Religions wissenschaft. 

AS=Aetii Sanctorum (Bollandus). 



.<4iS'G = Abhandlungen der S^hsischen Gesellschaft 

der Wissenschaften. 
ASoc = li'Ann6e Sociologique. 
j4iSH''/= Archaeological Survey of W. India. 
.i4.Z= Allgemeine Zeitung. 
S.i4G=Beitrage zur alten Geschichte. 
.B.i4,S<S=Beitrage zur Assyriologie u. sem. Sprach- 

wissenschaft (edd. Delitzsch and Haupt). 
iJCJ?= Bulletin de Correspondance HelUnique. 
iJ£= Bureau of Ethnology. 
£G = Bombay Gazetteer. 
BJ=: Bellum Judaicum ( Josephns). 
BL = Bampton Lectures. 
^i£ = Bulletin de Littiratnre Eccldsiastiqne. 
B0R = 1ia.h. and Oriental Record. 
JSiS=Bibliotheca Sacra. 

BSA = Annual of the British School at Athens. 
BSAA = Bulletin de la Soc. archMogiqne k Alex- 

andrie. 
SiSi.(4i=«BulletindelaSoc.d'AnthropologiedeLyon. 
BiS.<4P= Bulletin de la Soo. d'Anthropologie, etc., 

Paris. 
JBSG = Bulletin de la Soc. de Geographic. 
B7'5= Buddhist Text Society. 
jB W^= Biblical Worid. 
£.7=Biblische Zeitschrift 



LISTS OF ABBREVIATIONS 



XT 



CAIBL = CompteB rendus de I'Acad^mie des In- 
scriptions et Belles-Lettres. 
CBrS= Calcutta BuddiiLst Text Society. 
0/"= Childhood of Fiction (MacCulloch). 
C(?S= Cults of the Greek SUtes (Famell). 
C7= Census of India. 
CIA = Corpus Inscrip. Atticarum. 
C/£= Corpus Inscrip. Etruscarum. 
C/G = Corpus Inscrip. Graecarum. 
C/£= Corpus Inscrip. Latinarum. 
C7S= Corpus Inscrip. Semiticarum. 
COr= Cuneiform Inscriptions and the OT [Eng. 

tr. of KAT^ ; see below]. 
Cfl= Contemporary Keview. 
CeiJ = Celtic Keview. 
C?i2= Classical Review. 
CQB =Chwrch Quarterly Review. 
C5£i= Corpus Script. Eccles. Latinomm. 
DACL = Diet. d'Archeologie chr6tienne et de 

Liturgie (Cabrol). 
jD5=Dict. of the Bible. 
DCA = Diet of Christian Antiquities (Smith- 

Cheetham). 
DCB = Diet, of Christian Biography (Smith- 

Wace). 
i)C6== Diet, of Christ and the Gospels. 
/>/=Dict. of Islam (Hughes). 
Z)JVB=Dict. of National Biography. 
DPhP='Dict. of Philosophy and Psychology. 
DWAW ='DeaVsch.T\.itea der Wiener Akad. der 

Wissenschaften. 
EBi = Encyclopaedia Biblica. 
.B£r=EncyclopjEdia Britannica. 
EEFM^Egyp. Explor. Fund Memoirs. 
EJiE =TUe present work. 
Exp = Expositor. 
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ZTi 



LISTS OP ABBREVIATIONS 



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ancienne. 
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et h, la Philologie. 
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landes. 
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kirchl. Leben. 
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wissenschaft. 
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[A small superior number deugnates the particular edition of the work referred to, 

baKAT^ LOT', etc.] 



ENCYCLOPEDIA 

OF 

EELIGION AND ETHICS 



D 



DRAVIDIANS fNorth India).— i. Meaning of 
term.— The term 'Dravitlian' (Skr. Druvida, the 
adjectival form of Dravida) seems to have been 
primarily an equivalent for ' Tamil,' but was ex- 
tended by Caldwell (Dravidian Grammar', 4 ff.) to 
denote the family of languages formerly designated 
Tamulian or Tamulie, practically including all 
the languages of Southern India, — Tamil, Telugu, 
Malay&lam, Canarese, and Tulu, — which form a 
group well defined and closely related one to 
another. Manu (Institutes, x. 43, 44) speaks of 
the Dravidas as a tribe of K^atriyas, or warriors, 
who had become out-castes ; and, as they are the 
only southern tribe mentioned in his lists, Caldwell 
supposed that in ancient times the name was loosely 
applied to the whole of the South Indian peoples. 
Whether or not this belief was well founded, his 
invention of the word ' Dravidian ' as a generic 
term for the South Indian group of languages is 
convenient, and has been generally accepted. By 
a natural, if not perfectly justifiable, extension the 
term, primarily philological, has been widely used 
in an ethnological sense, and we have become 
accustomed to speak of the Dravidian peoples 
when we really mean the races speaking the 
Dravidian languages. Even in this sli^'htly ex- 
tended sense the term ' Dravidian ' is fairly exact 
and little open to misunderstanding. Risley, 
however, in his report on the last Census of India 
(i. 500), has used the term in a much wider sense. 
He includes in it races 'extending from Ceylon to 
the valley of the Ganges, and pervading the whole 
of Madras, Hyderabad, the Central Provinces, 
most of Central India, and Chota Nagpur ' ; and he 
regards this as ' probably the original type of the 
population of India, now modified to a varying 
extent by the admixture of Aryan, Scythian, and 
Mongoloid elements.' Nearly all the other exist- 
ing races of India, except the Indo-Aryans, such 
as the Rajputs, Jats, and Khatris of the Panjab, 
are classed by him as Scytho-Dravidians, Aryo- 
Dravidians, or Mongolo-Dravidians. In other 
Vords, every element in the present population 
which cannot be classed as Aryan, Scythian, or 
Mongoloid, is designated ' Dravidian.' This ter- 
minoIoCT is, as Kisley himself is aware, open 
to_ much criticism. Like ' Aryan,' ' Dravidian,' 
originally a purely philological term, is wanting 

VOL. V. — I 



in precision when used in an ethnological sense. 
But the name, however unsatisfactory it may be, 
has now passed into popular use, and the writer of 
the present article is unable to suggest a better 
alternative. Here it is taken to denote that form 
of Animism which constitutes the belief of a body 
of forest tribes occupying the line of hills which 
forms the backbone of the Peninsula, extending 
from the Indian Ocean into the lower course ot 
the Ganges. Analogous forms of belief are found 
among the agricultural, artisan, and menial popula- 
tion of the great northern Plains, and along the 
lower slopes of the Himalaya. Beliefs and practices 
of this type form the basis of popular Hinduism as 
we now observe it. In fact, no clear line of dis- 
tinction can be drawn between these forms of 
Animism and much of what is known as orthodox 
Hinduism. Both have been in contact for an 
enormous period of time, and each has reacted 
on the other, Hinduism admitting many of the 
Animistic beliefs and rites of the darker races, 
while these in their turn have largely accepted the 
outward observances of the Hindu faith, wor- 
shipping the Hindu gods, who are often only 
modifications of their own deities, and adopting 
the rules of caste and the social restrictions con- 
cerning food and personal purity which caste 
enforces. 

2. Primitive Dravidian religion.— An attempt 
has been made by Caldwell in Southern India to 
investigate on the basis of philology the primitive 
Dravidian beliefs. 

"They were,' he says (op. cit. 118), 'without hereditary 
"priests" and "idols," and appear to have had no idea 
ot "heaven" or "hell," of the "soul" or "sin"; but they 
acknowledged the existence of God, whom they styled K6, 
or king— a realistic title little known to orthodox Hinduism. 
Thejr erected to his honour a "temple," which they called 
K6-il, "God's house"; but I cannot find any trace of the 
" worship" which they offered to him.' 

In another passage (ib. 580 ff.) he compares the 
demonolatry of the Dravidians with the shamanism 
of High Asia, noting as features of resemblance 
the absence of a regular priesthood ; the acknow- 
ledgment of God's existence, combined with neglect 
of His worship ; the non-existence of belief in 
metempsychosis ; the objects of worship being not 
gods or heroes, but demons, which are supposed to 
be cruel, revengeful, and capricious, and are wor- 
shipped with blood sacrifices and wild dances. 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



'Hw uflliiilln BMgteiaa or prie«t «cit«a Unwell to freniy, 
■ad UMBprataodi or ■appooM hiiiwK to b* fomtmtd by the 
ilMnnii lo wbkb wonhlp ii bciiiK oBemi ; uxl whitot in tliii 
■late ho nmiimiintnatw to Ukmo who consult him the tnfomi*- 
ttaabetaurMaiTed. DwdemoooktiTpnctiiu-din Indioby the 
I prlmlUv* Dnridtan tribo ta not only iiimllar to this, but 
■ranr word u»cd in the fon-j,'oinK description ol 
wonnip would apply equally lo the Uravidian 

ly; and In depictJnjf the ceremonies ot the one 

noe «« depict thoee ol the other also.' 

It must, however, be remarked tliat the belief in 
lueteDipsyohosis, unless Caldwell uses the term in 
it« technical sense, is found among the Northern 
Dravidians. 

3. Shamanism. — Thus, according to Caldwell, 
the basis of the beliefs of the South Indian 
Dravidian tribes is shamanism, and many in- 
stances of similar customs can be quoted among 
those of the North ; e.g. the KOrs or Muiisis of 
Chot& Nafjpur communicate with the evil spirit 
which they worship through their priest, the 
baigd. He assembles the people, music and 
dancing commence, and an invocation of the spirit 
is chanted — 

* antil one or more ol the perlormers manliest possession by 
wild rolling ol the eyes ana Involuntary spasmodic action ol 
the muscles. Tlie affection appean contagious, and old women 
and otheni who have not been dancing l^econie influenced by it 
in a manner that is horrible to contemplate. . . . This cer- 
tainly is the most thorough loml ol demon worship with which 
we have met, and one that must appear to its votaries to testily 
to its own reality each time it was resorted to ' (Dalton, 232 1.). 

Similar practices employed for the exorcism of 
diseases are widely spread among the people of the 
northern Plains. But even among the tribes which 
occupy the central range of huls this form of 
shamanistic orgies seems never to have taken the 
same hold among the people as has been the case 
in Southern India, where what is known as Devil 
Dancing may be observed much more frequently 
than in the north. This has been described among 
the Sh&nfirs of Tinnevelly by Caldwell {op. cit. 
685 f.) and by Bumell ('The Devil "Worship of the 
Tulavas,' lA, 1894) ; and in Northern India, at 
least, shamanism has played a quite unimjx>rtant 
part in the development of the popular beliefs. 

4. Animism. — The religion of the Northern 
Dravidians is mainly a form of Animism, defined 
by Tylor, who invented the term, as ' the belief in 
Spiritual Beings' {Pnm. Cult.", 1891, i. 424) ; or as 
Jevons (Introd. to Hist, of Rd., 1896, p. 22) defines 
it : ' All the many movements and changes which 
are perpetually taking place in the world of things, 
were explained by primitive man on the theory 
that every object which had activity enough to 
affect him in any way was animated by a life and 
will like his own.' The term has been used by 
some authors ' to cover the various manifestations 
of what is commonly but cumbrously styled the 
"anthropomorphic" tendency of savage thought' 
(Marett, Thresh, of Rel., 1909, p. 6) ; and the same 
author (t4. 11) urges that what he calls 'Super- 
naturalism ' is ' not only logically, but also, in some 
sense, chronologically prior to Animism. ' Following 
the same line of argument, Risley (Census Report, 
1901, i. 352), while accepting the title 'Animism' 
for the vague, amorphous conception which he is 
discussinj,', endeavours to ascertain the ideas which 
underlie it : 

' WbM the Anlmlrt worships and seeks by all means to influ- 
•no* and conciliate is the shiltine and shadowy company ol 
unknown powers or influences making lor evil rather tlmn lor 
pwd, which .r»-»i<lo8 in the prinievnl forest, in the crumbling 
hllla, in the rushing river, in the spreading tree, which gives its 
spring to the tiger, its venom to the snake, which generates 
Jungle lever, and walks abroad in the terrible miise ol cholera, 
smallpox, or murrain. Closer than this he docs not seek to 
defim the object to which he offers his victim, or whose symbol 
be daubs with vermilion at the appointed season. Home sort ol 
power la there, and that is enough lor him. \VheUier it is 
•■n Hated with a spirit or an ancestral ghost, whether it pro- 
need* Irom tlMmjiterloiis thing itsell, whether it is one power 
ormanir, ha doa not stop to inquire.' 

And he goes on to suggest that — 



' the hypothesis that the earliest beginnings ol savage religion 
are to be sought in the recognition ol elemental lorcea to which, 
in the first liistance, no personal qualities arc ascribed, may, 
perhaps, afforri an explanation of a jiroblem which has exer- 
cised several inquirers ol late — the origin of the faiiUant un- 
worehipp«l Supreme beings who figure in savage mythology 
almost all over the world. . . . When the era ol anthropo- 
morphism seU in and personal gods come into lashion, Che 
active and passive powers ol tbe earlier system are clothed in 
appropriate attributes. The lormer become departmental 
spirits or gods, with shrines and temples ol their own and 
incessant offerings Irom apprehensive votaries. The latter 
receive sparing and infrequent worship, but are recognized, 
en rtvanehe, as beings ol a higher t>-pe, lathers and well- 
wishers ol mankind, patrons of primitive ethics, maketv ol 
things, who have done their work and earned their repose. Tin 
SanUl Marang Guru represents the one ; the Bongas orgodlingt 
ol disease are examples ol the other.' 

5. Animism in Northern India. — The character- 
istics of Animism in Northern India have often 
been described, and do not materially differ from 
what we observe in other parts of the world. 
Thus Gait writes of Assam (Census Report, 1891, 
i. 93) : 

'There is a vague but very general belief in some one 
omnipotent being, who is well-disposed towards men, and 
whom therelore there is no necessity of propitiating. Then 
come a number ol evil sinrits, who are ill-dieposed towards 
human beings, and to whose malevolent interference are 
ascribed all the woes which afflict mankind. To them, there- 
lore, sacrifices must be offered. These malevolent spirits are 
sylvan deities, spirits of the trees, the rocks, and the streams, 
and sometimes also ol the tribal ancestors. 'There is no regular 
priesthood, but some persons are supposed to be better endowed 
with the power of divination than others. When a calamity 
occurs, one or more of these diviners, shamans, or soothsayera 
is called on to ascertain the particular demon who is offended, 
and who requires to be ]>acifled by a sacrifice. This is done 
either by devil dancing, when the diviner works hinisell into a 
paroxysm ot drunkenness and excitement, and then holds 
converse with the unseen spirits around him, or by tbe ex- 
amination ol omens — eggs, grains ol rice, or tbe entrails ol a 
lowl. There is a profound belief in omens of all sorts ; no 
journey is undertaken unless it is ascertained that the latee are 
propitious, wliile persons who have started on a Journey will 
turn back should adverse omens be met with on the way. One 
peculiarity in connexion with their sacrifices may be men- 
tioned. On all necessary occasions, goats, fowls, and other 
animals are offered to the gods ; but it is always assumed that 
the latter will be content vsith the blood and entrails ; the flesh 
is divided among the sacrificer and his Iriends, the presiding 
soothsayer usually getting the lion's share.' 

From another jwint of view, dealing with the 
case of persons gifted with the hereditary powers 
of healing, Rose (i. 161) shows that — 
* as primitive religions have no conception of the distinction 
between the soul and tbe life, they reason, logically enough 
Irom their standpoint, that, precisely as physic^ life is tran» 
mitted, so too is the soul transmitted Irom one generation to 
another, and with the lile transmigrate, as it were, all tbe 
attributes and powers ol the progenitor. On this theory it is 
quite easy to explain the transmitted hereditary power of 
curing disease or causing evil by means which we may call 
supernatural. 

Animism, as we observe it in Northern India, 
develops on various lines, according to the diverse 
objects which are supposed to be occupied and 
dominated by spirit agency. It will be convenient 
to begin witn the worship of the celestial bodies, 
though, as a matter of fact, this type of worship 
is probably later than the cult of tree-spirits or 
of the village gods. It is in an advanced stage 
of religious belief, says Koliertson Smith (Rel. 
Sem.^, 1894, p. 114), that celestial gods predominate. 

6. Stm-worship. — Sun-worship prevails widely 
among the forest tribes of the Central Hills. 
When they are in trouble, the Kharwilrs appeal 
to the sun ; any open space on which he shines 
serves as an altar. When a sacri6ce is needed, the 
Kisans offer a white cock to him, acconling to the 
laws of mimetic magic. The Bhuiyas and Orilons 
worship him as Boram or Dharm Devata. The 
Korwas reverence him as Bhagw&n, ' the wonder- 
ful, the divine one' — a term borrowed from the 
Hindus ; his service is done in an open space, where 
an ant-hill is used as the altar. The Kharrias 
adore hira under the name of Bero. 

' Every head of a family should <luring his lifetime make not 
less than five sacrifices to this deity— the first ol lowls, the 
Moond ol a pig, the tliird ol a white goat, the ioarth ol a ram, 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



and the fifth of a buffalo. He is then considered Bufflciently 
propitiated for that generation, aod regarded as an ungrateful 
god if he does not behave handsomely to his votary,' 

Worship of a similar kind is done by tlie Kols 
and Oraons (?<?.».) (Dalton, 130, 132, 133, 141, 157, 
159, 186, 223). The Davars, a forest tribe in the 
Tbana district on the west coast, worship the Sun 
at the Divali, or feast of lights, by throwing red 
lead towards him, and oftering fowls, which are 
not killed, but allowed to fly into the forest {BG 
xiii. pt. i. 157). The Bhlls of the Satpura Hills 
have a form of joint worship of the Sun and 
Moon under the name of Sondal Deo (Luard, i. 
72). Among the village population of the Plains 
this non-Aryan worship of the Sun has been com- 
bined with the Aryan cult of Surya or Saraj 
Narayan. 

7. Moon-worship. — Moon-worship, though prob- 
ably earlier in ongin than that of the Sun, is 
much less important. The Binjhias of Chota 
Nagpur worship Nind-bonga as the Moon, in con- 
junction with Sing-bonga, or the Sun ; and in many 
other cases the worship of both luminaries is com- 
bined, as with the Chandor of the Mundas, known 
also as Chando Omol or Chanala, who is wor- 
shipped by women, and considered to be the wife 
of Sing-bonga, the Sun-god, and mother of the 
stars (KLsley, Tribes and Castes, i. 136, ii. 103 f.; 
Dalton, 186). The most curious form is the Chauk 
Clianda rite in Bihar. On that day the people fast 
and employ a Bralunan to worship the Moon with 
an ottering of flowers and sweetmeats. It is be- 
lieved that, if any one looks upon the Moon that 
day, calamity wifl befall him. Should any one be 
unlucky enough to do this, he can repel the 
dangerous influences by getting himself abused 
by other people ; abuse, like mock fights, being 
regarded as a means of protection against demons 
(Frazer, GB^ iii. 93 f.). He therefore, in order to 
excite their abuse, flings stones on the roofs of his 
neighlxjurs' houses (NINQ v. 23 f.). 

8. Planet- worship. — The worship of the other 
planets is of much less importance. Their motions 
are observed chiefljr by astrologers, who calculate 
the horoscopes of children, and examine the figures 
with a view to determining whether a marriage will 
or will not be auspicious. Eclipses are supposed 
to be the work of spirit agency embodied in the 
demon Kahu, who can be scared by noise, while the 
sofl'ering Sun or Moon can be restored to vitality by 
sacrifice and fasting daring the period of the eclipse 
(see DOSADHS). 

9. The spirits of water. — According to the 
theory of Animism, the flow of water in river, 
stream, or well is considered to be due to spirit 
action, and floods and whirlpools are the work of 
a malignant spirit. In the Panjab, when a village 
is menaced by floods, the headman makes an offer- 
ing of a coco-nut (which is probably a form of 
commutation of an original human sacrifice) and a 
rupee to the flood-demon. He holds the offering 
in Jiis band, and stands in the water until the flood 
rises high enough to wash it away. Then it is 
believed that the waters will abate. Some ofler 
an animal victim, a buffalo, horse, or ram, which, 
after blood has been drawn from its ear as a sign 
that the offering has been made, is flung into the 
water (NINQ i. 5). At a whirlpool on the Tapti 
river the Gonds sacrifice a goat before daring to 
cross the stream {Berar Gazetteer, 1870, p. 35). This 
propitiation of the water-spirit develops in two 
directions — first, into the worship of rivers held 
specially sacred, like the Ganges and Narbada, on 
whose banks, when the sinner bathes, he enters 
into communion with the spirit of the stream. As 
his Ixxly is cleansed, so his soul is relieved from 
pollution. His idea of purification is not spiritual 
in our sense of the word — that is foreign to primi- 



tive habits of thought — but spiritual in the sense 
of getting rid of evil spirits and their dangerous 
influence. In the second place, the vague spiritual 
entity which animates the water is personified 
into one or other of a host of water-godlings, like 
Kwaja Khizr or Pir Bhadr, wlio are worshipped by 
fishermen and boatmen whose business is on the 
great waters. Wells, in the same way, are sacred. 
Some have underground connexion with a holy 
river ; others are appropriated to the cult of some 
special god ; others are oracular. Hot springs, in 
particular, indicate the presence of the fire-spirit ; 
of a demon which, if not propitiated, brings disease ; 
of a Raksasa or demon slain by a goddess whose 
blood keeps the water warm (Waddell, Among the 
Himalayas, 203 ; BG xiv. 373). 

In the same way the fall of rain is due to spirit 
agency which, if not conciliated, causes drought. 
The curious nudity rite, by which women endeavour 
to repel the evil influence by dragging a plough 
through the soil — a good instanc i of mimetic magic 
—is familiar (Crooke, PEi. 69 ; Krazer, GB* i. 98). 

10. Wind-spirits.- On the same principle the 
spirit which causes wind is personified in the 
Panjab as Sendii Bir, the whistling god, whose 
voice announces the approaching storm. He has 
now been adopted into Hinduism as an incarna- 
tion of Siva, and is regarded as a malignant 
deity, causing madness, and burning houses, steal- 
ing crops, and other'Nvise immoral (Rose, i. 130). 
Wlien a whirlwind comes, the Ghasiya women in 
Mirzapur hold the house thatch, and stick an iron 
or wooden spoon into it as a charm against the 
demon ; if a man were to touch it, the storm would 
sweep the roof away {NINQ i. 68). In the Panjab, 
Pheru is the deified saint who rides on the little 
whirlwinds which blow in the hot weather, and an 
appeal to him protects the worshipper from harm 
(Crooke, PiJi. 81). 

11. The hail-demon. — Hail also is the work of a 
spirit, which, under the rules of sympathetic magic, 
can be scared by cutting the hailstones with a 
knife ; or the business of repelling it is entrusted 
to a special magician, like the iilarl of eastern 
Bengal, who, when a storm approaches, rushes 
almost naked from his hut, with a rattan wand in 
his right hand, invoking Paramesvara, the Supreme 
God. He ascends a mound, and, spreading abroad 
his hands and indicating by a motion of his wand 
the direction in which he desires the hail to pass 
away, he recites a series of doggerel incantations 
(Wise, 368 f.). The Garpagari of the Central 
Provinces and the Woli or Oliya of Knmaun 
exercise similar functions (NINQ iii. 106 ; Cen- 
tral Provinces Gazetteer, 1870, p. 48). 

12. Tree-spirits. — The tree with its waving 
leaves and oranches, apparently dying in the 
autumn and waking to new life in the spring, 
providing various medicines and intoxicants, is 
naturally regarded as inhabited by a spirit. Such 
spirits, impersonations of the vague terrors of the 
jungle, the causers of death, accident, and disease 
to those who intrude within their domains, are 
generally regarded as malignant. But, when the 
tribe adopts a settled life, it is provided by the 
tree-spirit with food and shelter. Tribes like the 
Mundas take care to preserve a patch of the primi- 
tive jungle in which the spirits disestablished by 
the woodman's axe may repose. Here most of the 
tribal religious worship is conducted (see Oraons). 
The cult at a later period develops into reverence 
for one or other of the special varieties of trees, 
some of which, like those of the fig genus, are 
regarded as the abode of the collective gods ; others 
are appropriated to the service <)f individual gods, 
as the Bel (Aicjle marmelos) to Siva, or the Tulasi 
(Ocymum sanctum) to Vijjnu. Under the shade 
of the village tree, where the business of the 



DBA VIDIANS (North India) 



oommnnity is conducted, are placed the rude stones 
which collectively embody the Gr&ma-devat&, or 
local gods and godlin^ (see § 27). 

These tree-spirits, in their moat primitive con- 
ception, form a host of beings without special 
Barnes, and to whom no special functions are 
•aaigned. But in process of time they tend to 
become concentrated into one or more distinct 
personalities, like the Silvanus of the Romans. 
Buch is Bar&m, the forest deity of the Jufings of 
Keunjhar, who stands at the head of their system, 
and is regarded with great veneration (Kisley, 
Tribes and Castes, i. 353). We find also, in Bengal, 
Th&npati, one of the elder cods of the Savaras, 
•lord of the sacred grove' {than) {ib. ii. 244). In 
the same category is Samft Barhi, the ' old lady of 
the grove' (samS) of the Orftons, who corresponds 
to Deswftll, the ' lady of the cleared land ' of the 
Mnndfts (Bradley-Birt, Chota Nagpore, 39). In 
the United Provinces her place is taken by 
Bansapti Mft (Skr. vanaspati, ' ruler of the wood '), 
who is known by the Musahars, a half-civilized 
jangle tribe, as BansatI or Bansuri. 

*By ber command the trees bear fruit, the bolbfl grow in the 
csrtb, the bees make honey, the tugsar worm fattens on the 
4«an leaf, and lizards, wolves, and jackals (useful as food to 
man) multiply their kind. She is the (goddess of child-birth. 
To her the childless wife makes prayers for the pant of off- 
sprint;. In her name and by her aid the medicine-man or 
sorcerer expels devils from the bodies of the possessed. In her 
nune and to her honour the villaj^e man kindles a new fire for 
lighting a brick-kiln. Woe to the man who takes a false oath 
in the name of Bansati I ' (NesSeld, CaleuUa Rev. Ixxxvi. 204). 

So with the Tharfls of the sub-Himalayan Tar&I. 
They fear the demons lurking in the forest trees, 
especially the weird cotton tree {Bombax kepta- 
phylla). 

•Only the terrible cry of fire will bring these poor fear- 
stricken creatures to open their doors and remove the heavy 
barriers from their huts at night; and even in the daytime, 
amid the hum of human life, the songs of the birds, and the 
lowing of cattle, no Tharu, man, woman, or child, will ever 
venture along a forest line without casting a leaf, a branch, or 
a piece of oldf rag upon the Bansati formed at the entrance of 
the deep woods, to save themselves from the many diseases and 
accidents the goblins and malicious spirits of the forests can 
bring upon and cause them. The Bansati, or "good spirit" of 
the woods, is a square space cut in the ground, six feet by six, 
and covered with pine branches' (Knowles, 214). 

Another form of this cult, already alluded to in 
the case of the Tharus, is that of attaching rags 
to trees. Trees thus decorated are to be found all 
over Northern India, and are known as Chithariya 
or Chithraiya Bhavani, 'Our Lady of Tatters,' or 
in the Paniab as LingrI Fir, or tlie 'Rag Saint' 
(Crooke, PR i. 161). The question of the motive 
of these rag-offerings has been fully discu.ssed by 
Hartland (IP, ii. 175 ff.). Discarding the two 
most usual explanations — either that they are 
offerings to the god or presiding spirit, or that they 
contain the disease of which one desires to be rid. 
Mid transfer it to any one who touches or handles 
"•^jra — he regards the rite as another application 
natuTi>i^<iame reasoning which underlies various 
sense, chroTi,...itchcraft and folk-medicine, 
the same line 01 , „,„,u' , .^ v. ■. ■ 
loni i 9S01 ,, i,-i "'othmginawitchshand may causeme 
i»oi, 1. «»_;, wniKicle in contact with a beneficent power 
for the vague, amorestore me to hejilth, or promote mv 
discussing, endeavo^'". *f ^ pricked my wart, even if 
nndnrlio if . °°°-' *"" "y '** contact, by the wound 

uiiueiiie 11 . , ^ peculiar bond with the wart; the 

• What the Animlst woi wart has by that friction acquired a 
enco and conciliate Is tlAtever is done to the pin or to the rag, 
unknown powers or influci.'n or rag may undergo, the same 
rood, which resides in the ot brought to bear upon the wart. 
Bills, in the rushing river, in i^ub my wart with raw meat and 
spring to the tiger, it« venoiivill decay and disappear with the 
Jungle fever, ana walks abroao *at. In like manner my shirt or 
smallpox, or murrain. Closet it, placed upon a sacred bush, 
define the object to which he ofti^iame written ui>on the wall of 
be daubs with vermilion at the ap( my hand cast upon a holy 
power is there, and that is enouj^nt of my food cast into a 
•Mociatcd with a spirit or an ancesnred tree, or a nail from 
oeeds from the mj-sterious thing itself, "v tree — is therefore in 
or manv, he does not stop to inquire.* ' effluence of divinity. 

And he goes on to suggest thai involve me. in this 
"" the god" (LP ii. 214). 



The evidence from Northern India corroborates 
this explanation, which throws much light on the 
Animistic practices which are discussed in the 
present article. 

One peculiar custom connected with trees is that 
of marrying the bride and bridegroom to them — 
of which numerous examples have been collected 
in Northern India (Crooke, PR ii. 115ff.). The 
object of this custom is obscure. In some cases 
the intention may possibly be to communicate to 
the newly-wedded pair the vigorous reproductive 
power of the tree. In most cases, however, the 
intention seems to be to transfer to the tree the 
malignant spirit influence which menaces them, 
and, in particular, endangers the fertility of the 
union (Frazer, GJS" i. 195 f.). 

13. Worship of Mother Earth. — From the 
worship of the vague spiritual beings with whom 
the Dravidian peoples the forests amidst which he 
dwells, and in which he collects the game, roots, 
and fruits which constitute his only food supply, 
we pass on to the worship of the Earth-Mother, 
which marks the adoption of a settled life and his 
earliest experiments in agriculture. Among many 
savage races the Earth-deity is spiritualized as 
female (Tylor, i. 326) ; and it has been suggested 
with some degree of probability that the predomi- 
nance of Mother-worship in India and elsewhere 
represents a survival from the matriarchate, the 
prevalence of which has been attested in India by 
a considerable amount of evidence (J. E. Harrison, 
Proleg. to Gr. Religion, 1903, pp. 261, 499 ; Risley- 
Gait, Census Report, i. 448). As in the case of the 
Greek Thesmophoria, the gist of which was a 
mimicking of Nature's processes, in a word, the 
ritual of sympathetic or mimetic magic — the 
women fasting seated on the ground because 
the earth was desolate, then rising and revelling 
to stir the Megara to imitate the impulse of spring 
— the North Indian cult of Mother Earth is largely 
in the hands of women. Again, though we find 
in the Rigveda the personification of Dyaus and 
Prithivi as respectively gods of heaven and earth, 
from whom the other deities and even the whole 
universe were supposed to spring, this cult is quite 
difi'erent from that of the Earth-Mother as we find it 
among the Dravidians(Monier- Williams, BrdA»na7i- 
ism and Hinduism*, 1891, p. 182 ; Oppert, 402). 

14. Restoration of the fertility of the Earth- 
Mother. — The theory of the Dravidians, like that 
of many primitive races, e.g. the Romans (Granger, 
Worship of Romans, 1895, p. 208), is that the Earth 
after bearing each successive harvest becomes 
exhausted, and that if she is to continue to dis- 
charge her functions she must be periodically re- 
freshed and roused to new activity. In one of the 
dances of the Kol women of Chota Nagpur, they 
all kneel and pat the ground with their hands in 
time to the music, as if coaxing the earth to be 
fertile ; and this also doubtless is the intention of 
the Oraon dance when the performers ' all face in- 
wards and simultaneously jumping up come down 
on the ground with a resounding stamp that marks 
the finale of the movement' (Dalton, 198, 255). 
The same rite was performed at the worship of 
Demeter Cidaria in Arcadia, and it is found in 
many other parts of the world (Frazer, Pausan., 
1900, iv. 239). Secondly, as among the Celts (Nutt, 
Voy. of Bran, ii. [1897] 150), it was believed that 
the Earth-spirit needed to be periodically refreshed 
witli human blood. This was one of the ideas 
underlying the rite of ineriah sacrifice among 
the Kandlis [q.v.). Thirdly, the fertility of the 
soil was supposed to depend upon the periodical 
marriage of ftlother Earth with her male consort. 
The cult of tliis divine pair meets us throughout 
the whole range of Dravidian myth, belief, and 
ritual. Thus in Bengal we find Bilrha-Bilrhl, 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



' the old man and the old lady,' wliom the Kautias 
regard as the ancestors of mankind ; they are in 
Eastern Bengal invoked in times of sickness and 
trouble ; they generally haunt a sacred tree, 
but in their worship, if a perfect tree be not pro- 
curable, a branch of it will answer the purpose 
(Wise, 132 f. ; Kisley, op. cit. i. 270, 381, li. 203). 
The Majhwars of Mirzapur worship the pair Dili 
and Deoharin, the impersonated protectors of the 
village site (dih), and they also recognize as crop- 
guardians the pair Ningo Baghiya, the phallic 
tiger, to whom, when the giuin is ripe, the first 
five handfuls, after being taken home and crushed, 
are offered ; and Hariyarl Mata, ' the mother of 
greeneiy,' to whom a burnt sacrifice is made in the 
field at sowing and harvest time (Crooke, I'ribes 
and Castes, iii. 435, 447). The Pavras, a forest 
tribe in Khandesh, sacrifice, before harvest, goats 
and fowls, and make an offering of com to a pair 
called Bara Knmba and Rani Kajhal, who occupy 
adjoining sacred trees ; the pair are invoked at 
the marriage rites in a song which describes the 
wedding of these deities of the forest (BG .xii. 97 f.). 
The divine pair worshipped by the Kharwars of 
the Central Hills are Chandol and Chanda, ap- 
parently moon-deities (the moon having a power- 
ful influence over the fertility of the crops), who 
correspond to the Munda Desaull and his wife, 
Jharera or Maturu (Dalton, 130, 188 ; Frazer, GB^ 
ii. 154 ff.). The Kharwars of Palamau reverence 
in the same way a pair known as Darhar and 
Dakin, a boar and country spirits being offered to 
the male, and a sow and spirits to the female ; in 
Mirzapur, their goddess Devi is associated with 
the cult of the phallic Gansam {NINQ i. 40). In 
the United Provinces and BUiar we meet a pair of 
village sprites, Chordeva and his spouse Chordevi, 
or Jak and Jakni, who are kno-vn as the thieving 
deities, because husband and wife live in separate 
villages, and, when the crops in one village are 
more productive than those of another, the people 
think that the Jak robs the fields of the barren 
tract to support his wife. This reminds us of the 
law of the XII Tables, which ' forbade people to 
spirit away the crops from a neighlwur's field by 
means of spells and incantations ' (Crooke, TC iii. 
447 ; Frazer, Pausanias, v. 57). 

In a higher stage of culture among the i>eople of 
Bengal, Sitala, a form of the &K)ther-godde.s8, 
who presides over smallpox, has as her husband 
Ghantakarana, who is now being adopted into the 
cult of Siva ; and even the Sun-god is provided with 
a partner (Gait, Bengal Census Report, i. 193). 
The patron pair in Kajpntana are Ekliiiga, whose 
name betrays his pliallic origin, now known as 
T^vara, the lord Siva, and Gauri, the yellow lady, 
who is identified with AnnapumS, 'she that is 
filled with or possessed with food.' At the open- 
ing of the year a deputation is sent outside the 
city to provide earth for Gauri, thus typifying her 
as the Earth-goddess. With this image is united 
one of Isvara, ' and they are placed together ; a 
small trench Ls then excavated, in which barley is 
sown ; the ground is irrigated and artificial heat 
supplied tiU the grain germinates, when the 
females join hands and dance ronnd it, invoking 
the blessings of Gauri on their husbands. The 
young com is then taken np, distributed, and 
presented by the females to the men, who wear it 
in their turbans' (Tod, i. 603). This is one of the 
Gardens of Adonis so fully illustrated by Frazer 
(Adonis, Attis, Osiris', 1907, p. 194ff.). In Southern 
India even Visnu is associated with the Earth- 
goddess Bhumi-devl, as her consort (Oppert, 363) ; 
and in a still later development Siva is represented 
in his androgynous form as Ardhanarlsa, with a 
hermaphrodite Ijody, uniting in himself the prin- 
ciples of male and female generation. 



15. Marriage of the Earth-goddess. — The rites 
of symbolic marriage of the Earth-Mother to her 
partner are periodically performed by many of the 
Dravidian tribes. Among the Kharwars of Chota 
NSgpur she is represented by Muchak Rani, whose 
marriage is performed every third year with great 
pomp and ceremony. The people assemble with 
drums and horns, and sing wild songs in honour 
of the bride and bridegroom. The officiant enters 
a cave, and returns bringing with him the Rani, 
who is represented by a small oblong-shaped stone 
daubed with red lead. This is dressed in wedding 
garments and carried in a litter to a sacred tree, 
under which it is placed. The procession then 
starts for another hill, where the bridegroom, sup- 
posed to belong to the Agariya, or iron-smelter 
caste, resides. The stone of the goddess is here 
flung into a chasm ; but it is believed that the two 
hills are connected by an underground passage, 
by which the bride returns, always in the form of 
the same stone, every third year to her father's 
house [NINQ iii. 23 f.). Among the Musahars of 
the United Provinces, Bansapti, the Forest Mother, 
is married to Gansam or Bansgopal, who is repre- 
sented by a mud pillar in phallic form (Crooke, 
TC iv. 34 f.). In Bihar, Hara or ^iva is com- 
bined with his female form in Hargauri, who is 
worshipped at marriages (Buchanan, i. 420). In 
Khandesh, Ranubat is a favourite family-goddess. 
Her marriage and investiture with the sacred 
thread sure performed in a seven days' ceremony, 
in which the goddess is represented by an image 
made of wheat flour (BG xii. 51). The marriage 
of DhartI, or Mother Earth, as performed by the 
Oraons, is described in the article Oraons. In 
the Panjab, Darya Sahib, the god of the river 
Indus, is married in great state to the goddess, 
who is embodied in a pot of hemp ; and Devi, in 
the form of Ganggor, represented by an image of 
clay or cow-dung, is loaded with ornaments, and, 
after her marriage is performed, is flung into a 
well (Rose, i. 118, 128). When the tutelary deity 
of Marwar fell into the hands of the prince of 
Amber, he married him to his own female deity, 
and then returned him to his original owner (Tod, 
ii. 123). As among many savage races, like the 
Maoris, the legend is told of the severing of the 
wedded pair, Ileaven and Earth, so the Gon48 
believe that ' formerly the sky lay close down 
upon the earth. One day an old woman happened 
to be sweeping, and when she stood up she knocked 
her head against the sky. Enraged, she put up 
her broom and pushed the sky aAvay, when it rose 
up above the earth, and has ever since remained 
there' (Russell, i. 94; Lang, Custom and Myth', 
1893, p. 45 ff.). It is perhajjs possible that we have 
an echo of the same marriage rite in the tale of 
the wedding of Ghazi Miyah, the Muhammadan 
hero, who has been adopted from Musalman hagio- 
logy into the worship of the Dravidians of the 
Plains, and whose career ends in untimely death 
(NINQ iv. 70 ; Crooke, PM ii. 324). This is also 
perhaps the origin of the myth of Dulha Deo, ' the 
bridegroom god,' wedded and slain in the midst of 
the marriage rites. He reminds us of Attis, god 
of vegetation, married and periodically put to death 
in order to promote the fertility of the soil (NINQ 
iiL 39, 93; Crooke, Pli i. 119ff.). With this, in 
the legend of Dulha Deo, is combined the world- 
wide myth of the disappearance of bride or bride- 
groom in consequence of the infringement of some 
mystic rule of tabu (Laii^', i/p. cit. 04 ff.). 

16. Ritual of the worship of Mother Earth. — 
Among the forest tribes of the Central Hills, Mother 
Earth is supposed to live with the other village 
gods in a pile of stones collected round the sacred 
tree of the hamlet. Worshi|) is done through the 
baigd (q.v.), or aboriginal priest, at the chief agii- 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



oultaral seasons — plongliing, sowing, and harvest- 
ing — witli an offering of (lowers and the sacrifice 
of a goat, the flesli of which is eaten by the men, 
boys, and nnmarried girls, no gro>vn-up girl or 
married woman sharing in the rite. This is the 
formal village - worsliip ; but, as we have seen 
(f§ 9, 14), grown-up women have private services 
of their own, which are distinct from the tribal 
celebrations. Other tribes worship her when they 
begin wood-cutting or collecting thatching-grass, 
or ^leanin^ the petals of the mahua (Bassia lati- 
folia). With some tribes the offering consists of 
molasses, butter, cakes, a fowl, and some spirits. 
According to the principles of mimetic magic, the 
goat shoiild be grey -coloured, and the fowl speckled 
(NINQ i. 77). 

17. Her benign and malevolent aspect. — In fact, 
the character of the oflering marlcs the twofold 
conception of the goddess. In her benevolent form 
she is Mother of all things, giver of com, producer 
of fertility in man and Ijeast. Accordingly she is 
presented with offerings of flowers, milk, or the 
fruits of the earth. In her malevolent and chthonic 
aspect, which would naturally be recognized by 
tribes which dispose of their dead by inhumation, 
she is appeased by blood sacrifices of animals, or 
even, as in the case of the Kandlis, with human 
victims. Macphei-son, writing of tliis tribe (Cal- 
cutta Rev. v. 54), states that in her malevolent 
form, as the supreme power, 

' when a tribe engages in war with enemies of another race, her 
awful name is invoked, and vows of sacrilice are recorded in 
the event of success. Her nature is purely malevolent; but she 
does not seem to interfere with the independent action of other 
deities in their respective spheres, and she is nowhere peculiarly 
present.' 

On the other hand, in her benign character she 
■presides over the operations of nature, . . . Upon her depend 
the fecundity of the soil and the growth of all rural produce, 
the preservation of the patriarchal houses, the health and 
increase of the people, and, in an especial manner, the safety 
of the flocks and their attendants. She is worshipped by human 
sacrifices. She has no fixed coriwreal shape, form, image, symbol, 
or temple. But she, together with the other superior gods, 
may temporarily assume any earthly form at pleasure ; as, for 
instance, that of the tiger as convenient for purposes of 
wrath.' 

In her beni^ form, among the Kharwars of 
Mirzapur she is honoured by sprinkling pulse and 
rice on the ground, with the prayer : ' Mother 
Earth ! Keep ns in prosperity, and protect the 
ploughman and oxen!' (NINQ L 141); while the 
orthodox Hindu, at the time of sowing and har- 
vest, prays : ' I salute the Earth, the realizer of 
all desires, she who is blessed mth all kinds of 
riches and creatures ; she who is contented, faith- 
ful, and virtuous, the giver of all that one asks 
for the realization of desires' (ib. v. 76). In the 
eastern Panjab she takes the form of Shaod Mata, 
' Mother of fertility,' and she is represented by a 
plough coulter placed between two round balls of 
cow-dung, probably with a phallic significance. 
Over these are laid leaves of holy trees, and the 
peasant, as he measures the com on the threshing- 
floor, prays : • O Mother ShSod I Give us increase, 
and make our bankers and rulers contented I ' (ib. 
i. 173). Her malevolent nature appears in the 
Kandh prayer: 'We are not satisfied with our 
wealth ; but what we do possess we owe to you, 
and for the future we hope for the fulfilment of 
our desires. We intend to go on such a day to 
such a village^ to bring human flesh for you. We 
trust to attain our desires through this service. 
Forget not the oblation I ' (Macplierson, Memorials, 
186.5, p. 117). Probably tlie idea of commnnicating 
the fertility of the Mother is the object of the 
curious Matmangara rite at the marriages of the 
lower castes, when the ' lucky earth ' is dug from 
the village tank, and brought to form the marriage 
altar and the fireplace at which the wedding feast 
is cooked (Crooke, PR i. 27). 



18. The Mother identified with the snake.— In 
her chthonic a8|)ect the Mother-goddess and her 
partner are naturally identified with the snake, 
an animal which lives in holes and moves in the 
darkness. This was the case at the Greek Thea- 
mophoria, where the pigs' flesh thrown into the 
chasms of the earth seems to have been regarded 
as in some sort the due of the earth -jiowers as 
represented by the guardian snakes; tlie Erinys, 
the offended ghost, was considered to be a snake, 
and this was also the guise of the death hero (J. E. 
Harrison, op. cit. 123, 232, 326 ff.). The Kurs of 
Chota Nagpur claim descent from Naga Bhuiya 
and Naga Bhuiain, the male and female earth- 
serpents (Dalton, 231). The Mother-goddess of 
South India, Ellamma, has images of snakes in her 
temple ; and Durgamma, another form of the 
deity, has her temple built over a snake -hole 
beside a sacred Margosa tree, which, with the 
snake, if there be one there, is held sacred, and 
both are symbols of the goddess (Oppert, 469, 497). 
The Dangls of the United Provinces worship the 
Earth-cod, Bhumiya, as an old snake ; and in 
Bundelkhand snakes are worshipped under the 
name of Bhiarani, a form of BevI, a title which 
is said to mean 'dweller in the earth' (Luard, i. 
75). From the same point of view, the snake is the 
guardian of underground treasure (Crooke, PR ii. 
134 ff.). 

19. The cult of the Earth-Mother developing 
into a general Mother-cult. — It seems probable 
that from this primitive conception of the Earth- 
Mother as either kindly or malevolent has de- 
veloped the worsliip of the Mother-goddesses, 
which forms such an important element in the 
beliefs of the people of Northern India. As in 
Greece, the close connexion of the Mother-goddess 
with the earth is illustrated in sacred art. As in 
the Greek vases she appears rising out of a mound, 
so EUamma's image is a figure hewn in stone, 
fashioned so that only the head is visible, while the 
body is concealed in the earth ; and the same con- 
ception appears in Buddhist bas-reliefs, where we 
find the Earth-goddess, Mahapathavl or Prithivl, 
rising out of the ground and supporting the horse 
of the Master (J. E. Harrison, op. cit. 277 fF. ; 
Oppert, 468; Grilnwedel, Buddhist Art in' India, 
1901, p. 100 f.). 

This conception of the Mother-goddess seems to 
be the most important element in the Dravidian 
cultus which has been imported into Hinduism. 
Like the Earth-Mother, the other Mothers appear 
in a double manifestation, at once benignant and 
malevolent. This is shown in the epithetis of Devi, 
who is the most common type of the class — KanyS, 
' the maiden '; Kanyakumari, ' the youthful virgin'; 4$ 
Sarvamahgala, ' always auspicious ' ; Sakambhari, 
' nourisher of herbs ' ; and, on the other side, 
Chamunda, ' the demon-slayer ' ; Kali, ' the black 
one ' ; liajasT, ' the fierce ' ; Itaktadanti, ' bloody- 
toothed.' It is this contrariety of aspect which 
renders the cult of the Mother-goddesses so per- 
plexing. In one contrasted and yet identical form 
they both cause and remove disease. Thus in 
eastern Bengal the Mother is usually worsliipped 
under the form of Siddhisvari, 'perfected (jueen,' 
or Vrddhisvari, ' old queen ' ; but when epidemic 
diseases break out she is appealed to with an 
euphemistic epithet as Rakhya or Bhadra Kali, 
'Kali the protector, the auspicious' (Wise, 135). 
In this benignant form she is one of the favourite 
objects of worship in Bihar as Kseniakarni, ' she 
who confers blessings ' (Buchanan, ii. 49). In the 
Central Provinces the village-goddess Devi repre- 
sents the Earth-goddess ; she can cause or avert 
smallpox and cholera, and is incarnate in the body 
of any one suffering from the former disease; so 
much so that those who enter the room where the 



DRA VIDIANS {North India) 



patient lies take ofi' tlieir shoes as a mark of respect 
to her (Russell, i. 79). 

20. Varied manifestations of the Mothers. — 
Hence the manifestations of the Mothers are infin- 
itely varied. Bahucharaji, who has a shrine at 
Anjar in Kachchh, is the ' looking-glass goddess,' 
before whom the votary worships his own image 
on a sheet of silvered glass ; but, to illustrate the 
elasticity of the cult, in Baroda she is said to 
have been originally a Charan woman, who when 
attacked by robbers committed suicide, and was 
elevated to the rank of a manifestation of the 
divinity {BG v. 212). Another group of six Mothers 
in Kathiawar are also said to be the daughters of 
a Charan who was dismissed from court as unlucky 
because he wa.s childless. He practised austerities 
at a shrine of Kali, and his six daughters, who 
were bom in response to a prayer addressed to the 
goddess, became Mothers (ti. viii. 642 f. ). The cult, 
in fact, is vague in the extreme. The worship of 
Ekvira, the Mother of the Karli Caves, is mixed 
up with the original Buddhism, of which this place 
was a centre, part of the cultus being the circum- 
ambulation of a dagoba, or Buddhist relic shrine ; 
and the temple of the Turturia Mother is served 
by women, who are supposed to be modem repre- 
sentatives of the original Buddhist nuns {ib. xi. 383 ; 
Cunningham, Archceological Reports, xiii. 147). It 
is in Western India that the Mother-cult most widely 
prevails. Each Kajput clan in Kathiawar has a 
patron Mother ; all Raj pats visit the Mata with 
their brides immediately after marriage, and the 
mint at Navanagar is presided over by the Mother 
Aiapuri, ' hope-f ulfiller ' ; but peculation goes on 
under her very eyes. 

21. Ritual of Mother-worship. — The worship at 
the famous shrine of Becharaji in Baroda may be 
taken as an example of the ritual of the Motner- 
cult, which here is almost purely Animistic. Every 
morning the head officiant, after ablution, enters 
the adytum and pours a mixture of milk, curds, 
clarified butter, sugar, and honey — known collect- 
ively aa pancAdmjHta, ' the five divine foods ' — over 
the image, and drops water over it through a per- 
forated metal pot, while a Brahman chants hymns 
from the Veda. Coloured powder and flowers are 
placed upon the image, incense and camphor are 
burnt, and silver lamps are kept lighted day and 
night. After the worship, the ' children's food ' 
(bi&labhojya), consisting of wheat-flour, sugar, and 
clarified butter, is ofl'ered with a coco-nut (a sur- 
vival of human sacrifice), and the morning service 
ends with the waving of lamps (arts), burning of 
camphor, ringing of bells, and beating of gongs. 
Another meal of sugar and mUk La ottered to the 
goddess about 10 a.m., a little being sprinkled over 
the image, and the rest consumed by the priests. 
In the evening a passage of the sacred book telling 
of the exploits of the Devi is read, the figure is 
washed and worshipped, and more cooked food is 
presented (BG vii. 611 f.). 

More usually the Devi or Kali receives a blood 
ofTering, some of which is sprinkled upon the altar 
(see Devi Patan). 

Of all the orthodox Hindu cults that of Devi is 
most akin to Animism, and hence many of the 
forest tribes of the Central Hills accept as repre- 
sentatives of her many village-goddes.ses, such as 
Khermata, primarily an Earth-goddess ; tlieDesahal 
Devi, or goddess of the four quarters of the hamlet ; 
the Chitliraiya Devi, or goddess of rags (§12), Ijesides 
various local incarnations like the Vindhyabasini 
Devi, the goddess of the Vindhyan range (Russell, 
L 83). In the Panjab we find unmarried girls 
recognized as representatives of Devi, to whom, 
as to the goddess, oflerin^s are made twice a year. 
Here, also, girls make images of .Siva and his 
spoQse Parvati, Devi in her mountain form, and 



afterwards throw them into the water. The popu- 
lar explanation is that this rite commemorates the 
suicide of a woman married to a boy husband. 
, ' But a different explanation lias been suggested. The deities 
Siva and Parvati are conceived as spirits of vegetation, because 
tlieir images are placed in branches over a heap of flowers and 
grass ; but this theory leaves many points unexplained, and 
until we have full details of the rites observed at all the festivals 
of Devi we cannot hope to discover the ideas underlying these 
local rites ' (Rose, i. 126). 

22. The Disease-Mothers. — Mention has been 
already made (§ 19) of Kali as the causer and re- 
mover of disease. The control of disease is in 
the hands of a host of these Mothers, to each of 
whom the power over a certain malady is assigned ; 
Sitala, for instance, controlling smallpox, Mari 
Mata cholera, and so on (see Bengal, § 13 ; 
Crooke, PR i. 123 S.). These functions are not, 
however, clearly fixed, and are often attributed 
to the Mothers of orthodox Hinduism. Thus the 
Gangota cultivators in Bihar worship Jagadamba, 
' Mother of the world,' twice or tiiree times a 
month, with ofl'erings of husked rice and incense ; 
while under the title of Bhagavati, ' the worshipful 
one,' Devi is propitiated at weddings and in times 
of sickness, by offerings of kids, butter, basil leaves, 
and vermilion (Risley, Tribes and Castes, i. 269). 

Shamanism is an important agency in the cure 
of disease. The Tcaphri, as Buchanan (ii. 131) 
caUs the exorcist in Bihar, makes an offering to 
the deity of disease, and becomes violently agitated 
before ne announces the treatment which he 
recommends. When a person is bitten by a snake 
he is carried to the shrine of Bisahari, 'she 
who removes venom,' and the practitioner fore- 
tells the event by staring into a vessel of water, 
the troubling of the water indicating the arrival 
of the deity to take part in the cure. In the 
eastern Panjab, the exorcist, who is here called 
bhagat, ' worshipper,' builds a shrine to his 
familiar, before whom he dances. When he is to 
be consulted, which should be at night, the in- 
quirer provides tobacco and music. The former is 
waved over the person of the invalid and given to 
the bhagat to smoke. While the music plays and 
a butter lamp is lighted, the bhagat sometimes 
lashes himself with a whip, under which treatment 
he is seized with the afflatus, and, in a paroxysm 
of dancing and head-wagging, states the name of 
the malignant influence, the manner in which it 
may be propitiated, and the time when the disease 
may be expected to abate. Or he waves corn over 
the sick man and counts out the grains into heaps, 
one grain for each spirit which is likely to be at 
the bottom of the trouble, and that one on whose 
heap the last grain falls is the one to be attended 
to (NINQ i. 127 f.). In Jalandhar a scape-animal 
is used ; a goat or young bufi'alo is selected, blood 
is drawn from its ear, and its face is smeared with 
vermilion. Then it is taken round and outside the 
village, bearing the malady with it. It finally 
becomes the perquisite of the exorcist [ib. ii. 191). 
An important part of the treatment is tlie mutter- 
ing of spells and the waving of peacock feathers 
to scare the spirit (ib. iii. 74). 

23. Mountain-worship. — 'Like the Baal of the 
Semites, the local Jupiter was commonly wor- 
shipped on high places. Wooded heights, round 
which the rain-clouds gather, were indeed the 
natural sanctuaries for a god of the sky, the rain, 
and the oak' (Frazer, Lect. Kingship, 1905, p. 208 ; 
cf. Farnell, UGS i. 4, 51 ; Fowler, Roman Festi- 
vals, 1899, pp. 222, 261). The same ideas, com- 
bined with the awe and mystery which surround 
them, doubtless commended the worship of moun- 
tains to the Dravidian tribes. Those of the Central 
Hills imagine each peak to be the haunt of an evil 
spirit, which they are careful to propitiate before 
they make an ascent; and it is a common beliel 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



that DiountAins were fonned by rival divine or evil 
powers warring with each other and using the 
rocka as misHiles (NINQ i. 47). The cult of nionn- 
tains has been regarded as purely Dravidian ; but 
this is very doubt ^a I, and at any rate the reverence 
paid by the Aryans to the mighty UimSlayan 
peaks must have dated from the time when tuey 
first came under observation. Many of them 
became seats of the Hindu gods, and one title of 
Siva is Giri^, while that of his consort is Parvati, 
both meaning ' mountain-dweller.' 

In Bengal the Mundius, Sant&ls, Mahilis, and 
other tribes of Chota Kftgpur revere a mountain- 
god called Marang Burn or Bar Pah^ri ' great 
mountain,' to whom their tribal priest makes 
sacrifice of bufTaloes and other animals. These 
sacrifices are made at the chief visible habitation 
of the deity, a bluff near Lodhma (Gait, i. 191). 
In the Hoshangabad district of the CentraJ Pro- 
vinces, Saryablian, or ' Sun-rays,' is a common name 
for isolated, round-peaked hills, on which the Snn- 

Std is believed to dwell ; and among the Kurkus, 
. Qngar Deo, ' the mountain-god,' resides on the 
nearest hill outside the village, where yearly at the 
Dasahra festival he is worshipped with an offering 
of two coco-nuts, five dates, and a ball of ver- 
milion paste. They regard him as their tribal 
god (Elliott, Settlement Report, 1867, pp. 121, 254). 

24. Animal-worship. — The Northern Dravidians 
share with other primitive races the belief that 
animal intelligence is identical with that of man ; 
that animals can, as in the folk-tale world, talk 
and act precisely as men do ; that men and animals 
may for a time resume the forms which had once 
been theirs, or, for that matter, take any other. 
Hence shape-shifting, as it has been called, is 
widely accepted, and it may even take place by 
means of death and a new birth, the powers and 
qnalities or even the actual form of a deceased 
ancestor being reproduced in his descendants. 
Hence various animals are worshipped within the 
Dravidian area, of which a few instances will be 
given here to illustrate the local cults as a supple- 
ment to the facts collected in art. Animals. 

(a) Tfie horse. — Some of the Kajput tribes of 
Gujarat worship Ghora Deva, ' the horse-god,' in 
the form of a horse of stone, at their main festivals ; 
and on the sixth day after a birth the Ojha Kura- 
hftr potters of Kachchh form a horse of clay and 
make the child worship it (Campbell, Notes, 292). 
One of the chief gods of the Gonds is Kodapen, 
the horse-god, a stone which is worshipped on the 
outskirts of the village at the commencement of 
the rainv season. Only men join in the worship, 
women being excluded. The bhiimak priest be- 
smears the stone with red lead, presents a horse 
made of pottery, then a heifer, on the head of 
which he pours soirita and prays : • Thou art the 
guardian of the village ; we have come and offered 
to thee according to our ability. If in anything 
we have failed to please thee, forgive us. Protect 
our oxen and cows ; keep us in safety ; let there 
be no fear in the jungle.*^ After this the victim is 
slain and boiled, some of the meat is laid with flour 
before the god, and the worshippers eat the re- 
mainder of the food (Hislop, App. i. p. iii). The 
Gonds and other Central Indian tribes place 
earthenware horses on the tombs of ancestors and 
on the village shrines, which serve as steeds for 
the sainted dead and for the local gods. 

(6) The <tjrer.— The tifor is naturally worshipped 
by the forest tribes. Bighttvar, • the tiger lord,' 
Is a favourite deity along the Vindhyan and 
KaimOr ranges. The Santals and Kisfins worship 
him as Banrftjft, 'forest king,' wiU not kill him, 
and believe that he spares them in return for their 
devotion. Even those who do not actually worship 
him swear by his name or on his skin, as is the 



case among the Hos and Ju&ngs (Dalton, 132, 
133, 158, 214). The tribes further west, like the 
KurkOs, worship Bfigh or Vfigh Deo, and a female 
WBghai Devi, served by a bhiimak priest, who 
pretends to know spells by which he can protect 
himself and his parishioners from the beast {Berar 
Gazetteer, 191 f. ; Elliott, op. cit. 255 f.). The 
belief in tiger-men, or men who are really meta- 
morphosed tigers, is common, the man-eater being 
often a person of evil life changed into that form 
(Gait, Assam. Census, i. 250 f. ; Crooke, PJi ii. 
216 ir.). 

(c) The cow. — Cow-worship, which appears to 
arise among pastoral tribes which have attained 
some degree of culture, is naturally not found 
highly developed among the Dravidians, and the 
life of the animal is not protected by the effective 
tabu enforced by orthodox Hindus. The Gonds, 
for instance, kill a cow at the funeral rites and 
hang the tail of the victim on the gravestone as a 
sign that the obsequies have been duly performed ; 
and the Kurkus sprinkle the blood of a cow on the 
grave, believing that if this rite be omitted the 
ghost refuses to rest and returns to earth to plague 
the survivors (Dalton, 283 ; lA i. 348 f.). See art 
Cow (Hindu). 

It is only among the semi-Hinduized forest 
tribes that the cult of the cow has made much pro- 
gress. In Nepal, where under the present dynastj 
the rules of Hinduism are rigidly enforced, it is 
deemed the highest sacrilege to approach the image 
of the sacred animal, except in a position of adora- 
tion, 'insomuch that a malicious person, wishing 
to suspend the agricultural operations of his neigh- 
bour, would be sure to effect liis purpose by placing 
a stone or wooden figure of a cow in the midst of a 
field' (Kirkpatrick, 100). Further west the cult 
of the cow is closely connected with that of Kr^na, 
and in Central India we have the curious rite of the 
silent tendance of cattle, in which the performers, 
drawn from the highest classes of the community, 
bathe, anoint themselves, put on garlands of 
flowers, and walk in procession through the graz- 
ing grounds, holding bunches of peacock feathers 
{NINQi. 154 f.). 

Special godlings are also worshipped to secure 
the safety of cattle. Nagar Deo in Garhwal on 
the lower Himalaya is supposed to have the cattle 
in his charge, anci he is represented by a trident 
lixed on a platform to which the first milk given by 
the animals is dedicated. In Kumaun his place is 
taken by Chaumu or Baudhan, who recovers stray 
beasts, receives offerings of milk, and, when a miss- 
ing animal is found, is honoured by the sacrifice 
of a goat (NINQ i. 56). Among the Kharwars of 
the Central Hills, Goraiya or Gauraiya, properly a 

fod of boundaries, presides over tlie herds (Crooke, 
^ribes and Castes, lii. 251). 

(rf) The dog. — In common with the Kiinbig of 
Khandesh, the Bhils of that district show extreme 
reverence to the dog and horse; and the dog is 
respected by all Marathas, who figure the animal 
as the coniimnion of their god Bhalroba ; and by 
many Hindus in Western India, who Avorship the 
dog of their god Kala Bhairava (Campbell, Notes, 
276). At the shrine of Malhari in Dharwar the 
Vaggaiyya ministrants dress in blue woollen coats, 
tie bells and skins round their waists, and meet 
the pilgrims barking and howling like dogs. They 
endeavour, in fact, to assimilate their appearance 
to that of the god whom they serve (Robertson 
Smith, Kel. Semites', 437). Each Vaggaiyya has 
a bowl into which the pilgrims put food; the 
Vaggaiyyas lay these down, fight with each other 
like dogs, and then lying on the ground put their 
mouths, as animals do, into the bowls and eat the 
contents {BG xxii. 212). The cults of Bhairoba 
or Bhairava, and of Khande Rfio, Khandoba, or 



DRA VIDIANS (North India) 



flhandoji (now promoted to be an incarnation of 
iva), wliich are widely spread in Western India, 
have dog-worship as tlieir basis. The Bauris of 
Bengal will on no account touch a dog, and the 
water of a tank in which a dog has been drowned 
cannot be used until an entire rainy season has 
purified it. Under the influence of the Hindus 
they have now invented a legend that, as they 
themselves kill cows and other animals, tliey deem 
it right to regard as sacred some beast wliich is as 
holy to them as the cow is to Brahmans ; this, as 
Kisley remarks {Tribes and Castes, i. 79 f.), being 
' a neat reconciliation of the twinges of conscience 
and cravings of appetite.' But it seems clear that 
this is an afterthought, and that, the dog being 
really the sacred animal of the tribe, its ' unclean- 
ness resulted from its sanctity, as in the case of 
the pig among the Semites and other races ( Frazer, 
Pausanias, iv. 137 f.). 'In general it may be said 
that all so-called unclean animals were originally 
sacred ; the reason for not eating them was that 
they were divine ' (GB^ ii. 315). 

(e) Birds. — Many birds are regarded as sacred 
by the Northern Dravidians ; and the sanctity of 
others, like the crow, the pigeon, and the wagtail, 
is suggested by the respect paid to omens taken 
from them. The skin of a species of Bnceros or 
hombill, known as the ' bird of wealth ' (dhan- 
chifya), is hung up in houses by wizards in the 
Central Pro\'inces, and the thigh bones are attached 
to the wrists of children as a charm against evil 
spirits (Hislop, 6). The peacock seems among the 
Kandbs to impersonate the Earth-Mother, because 
they placed an effigy of the bird on the top of the 
tneriah, or hnman sacrifice-post (Maltby-Leman, 
Manual of Ganjam, 1882, p. 84). 

{/) Fish. — Fish are regarded in many places as 
sacred. Some are believed to contain tne souls of 
the dead ; all varieties are emblems of fertility, and 
are therefore used in the marriage rites. A t most 
of the sacred places in Northern India along the 
sacred rivers, such as Hardwar, Mathura, and 
Benares, the fish in that portion of the stream 
adjoining the bathing places are carefully pre- 
served, and any attempt to catch them is fiercely 
resented by the Brahmans. The tabu here en- 
forced is partly due to the sanctity of the holy 
place which makes things connected with it sacred 
(Jevons, Introd. 63) ; they are also popularly 
regarded as impersonations of the divine energy 
of the stream, and as connected with the dead 
whose ashes are consigned to its waters. They 
have now been adopted into the cults of the Hindu 
gods, and pious people write the name of Rama on 
thousands of pieces of bark or paper, which they 
enclose in little packets and throw to the fish. 
Once Sita, wife of Rama, was bathing in a Deccan 
stream, when one of the fish bit her leg. If one be 
now caught and its palate examined, in it will be 
found a ball of butter (BG xviii. pt. i. 93). The 
crocodile is worshipi)ed as an object of terror. In 
Barodathe crocodile god, Magar Deo, is worshipped 
once a year to protect men and animals from the 
attacks of these monsters, and also as a prevent- 
ive against illness. The deity is represented by a 
piece of wood in the form of the animal, supported 
on twoposts (Dalai, i. 157). 

25. Totemism. — The respect paid to some of 
these animals may rest upon a totemistic basis ; 
but it is difficult to say where, in Northern India, 
the line can Ije drawn tetween animal-worship and 
totemism. In any case the connexion of totemism 
with the current beliefs of the Dravidians is 
obscure ; and totemism, as we find it at present, 
generally appears as a mode of defining the exo- 
gamons groups, many of which trace their descent 
from some animal, plant, or other thing which the 
members of the group regard as sacrSi and will 



not eat or injure. The totemistic exogamous groups 
have been discussed by Risley (Tribes and Castes, 
i., Introd. xliiff.) and Dalton (254). The latter 
states that amon" the Oraons ' the family or tribal 
names are usually those of animals and plants, 
and when this is the case the flesh of some part of 
the animal or fruit of the tree is tabued to the 
tribe called after it.' This respect for the totem 
seems now hardly to exist among the totemistic 
tribes of the Central Provinces, the sacred plants 
and animals having generally been adopted into 
the cult of some Hindu deity (Russell, i. 189 f.). 
The feeling of reverence is still strong in Central 
India, where the totem tree is never cut or injured ; 
men make obeisance to it, and women veil their 
faces when they pass it (Luard, i. 198 f.). 

26. Local village-godling-s. — Writing more par- 
ticularly of the Semites, Robertson Smith {Bel. 
Semite^, 92) remarks that ' the activity, power, 
and dominion of the gods were conceived as 
bounded by certain local limits, and, in the second 
place, they were conceived as having their re- 
sidences and homes at certain fixed sanctuaries.' 
In order of time the worship of the village-deities 
is probably later than that of celestial gods, as 
they can hardly exist under the conditions of a 
nomadic life, and their worship probably marks 
an early stage of tribal settlement. The worship 
of these gods, as appears from the character of the 
priesthood (§ 49), lias no connexion with Brah- 
inanical Hinduism. They vary in name, character, 
and functions all over the country. But all have 
one distinguishing mark — their influence is con- 
fined to a particular area, and it is only when some 
shrine has, by cures and wonders performed within 
its precincts, acquired a more than local reputa- 
tion that it attracts the worship of persons resid- 
ing beyond its special domain. When this stage 
is reached, it leads to the establishment of a local 
cult, which, as it develops and becomes important, 
is generally annexed by some priest drawn from 
the orthodox ranks of Brahmanism, and the local 

fod is gradually promoted to a seat in the regular 
[indu pantheon. 

27. The village shrine. — The general name for 
these gods is Grama- or Gramya-devata, ' the god- 
lings of the village,' or in the modern vernacular 
Gahv-devata or Gahv-devI, the last title marking 
connexion with the Mother - cult. Sometimes, 
again, they are known as Dih, ' the village,' and 
the shrine is called Deoliar, ' holy place ' — a term 
which is also applied to the whole body of village- 
gods. In its simplest form the village shrine is a 
collection of water-worn stones placed under the 
sacred tree of the settlement. In the Plains, 
where all stones are scarce, pieces of old carving 
from a ruined Buddhist or Hindu religious build- 
ing are often used for this purpose, and occasionally 
the desecrated image of the Buddha may be seen 
doing service as the representative of the village 
Devi or her consort. Sometimes ancient stone 
axes, looked on with awe by people who now use 
none but metal implements, have been found in 
such places. In the more prosperous villages a 
small square building of brick masonry, with a 
bulbous head and perhaps an iron spike as a finial, 
serves as a shrine. Its position is marked by a red 
flag hung from the adjoining sacred tree; or a 
bamboo pole is erected close by to serve as a perch 
for the deity when he deigns to visit the shrine to 
receive the od'eriiigs and attend to the prayers of his 
votaries. In the hill villages occupied by the purer 
Dravidian tribes, such as the Kols or Oraons, the 
shrine is usually a rude mud hut roofed with bam- 
boos and straw, which is often allowed to fall into 
disrepair until the godling reminds his votaries of 
his displeasure by bringing sickness or some other 
calamity upon them. Inside is a small mud plat- 



10 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



form, on whicli a jar of water is nsaally placed and 
oflerings are luiule. 

No clear distinction is made between the various 
kinds of spirits wliich occupy such a shrine. First, 
there are the purely elementary deities, like the 
Earth-Muther and her consort; secondly, those 
spirits wliich are regarded as generally beni^ant, 
like the SatI, tlie spirit of a woman who died on 
the pyre of her husband, or those which are actively 
malignant. Tims on the borders of the hill country 
where Dravidian and Aryan intermix, may be seen 
what is called a hrahm, a shrine in honour of some 
deified Brfihinan, where the worshipper makes a liba- 
tion of milk or curds, lights a lamp, and oUers the 
fire-service (homa) ; and in an adjoining Dravidian 
village a baghaut, a rude shrine or cairn erected 
on the spot where a man was killed by a tiger, at 
which a Kol makes an occasional sacrifice (NINQ 
IL 19). In the eastern Panjab the fusion of cults 
is equally obvious. Wilson (op. cit. ii. 147) describes 
at Kftngra a shrine erected by the Chamars, or 
menial Hindu leather-dressers, inside which they 
light a lamp twice a month, and 

*when they were ill or in trouble they would come to this 
thrine and bow down before it, and promise that if their 
troubles were removed, or their wish g^'atified, they would 

f^resent some offering, such as bread, or a coco-nut, or a flag. 
f the saint fulfilled his part of the bar^in, the worshipper 
fulfilled his vow ; if not, the vow was void. Thus I was told 
that a small flag waving over the shrine had been presented by 
a Chamar, who had been ill, and who had rowed to offer a flag 
on his recovery. Often a shrine may be seen outside the 
vU]ag« to the villaf^e god, or to the smallpox goddess, or some 
otlier deity, where at set times the women make offerings 
of water or grain ; and a small lamp may be often seen burning 
on a Thursday evening at the tomb of a Mutmmmadan saint- 
These practices are said to be forbidden in the Koran ; but 
the women especially place some faith in them, and a Rain 
is said to have divorced his wife because she persisted in light- 
ing lamps ac a Fakir's tomb, in hope of being blessed with a 
son.' 

This concrete instance admirably illustrates the 
beliefs of the low-class Musalman population, 
who are in the main converts from Dravidian 
tribes, and whose faith in the tenets of the 
Prophet is only a thin veneer over their primitive 
Animistic creed. In the same part of the country 
we often find the worship of Buumiyil, the earth- 

god, combined with that of one of the great Mu- 
ammadan saints ; and in one village it appeared 
that the Hindu Jats distributed their worsliip 
between the saint Shaikh Ahmad Chishti of Ajnier 
(q.v.), Brahmans, and the Pipal, or sacred fig-tree. 
In many places, again, in the hill country where 
caves are found, they are utilized as local shrines. 
They are places of mystery, the fitting abode of 
the gods, and it is believed that they form an 
entrance to the nether world. Such cave shrines 
are numerous in the lower Himalaya, and many 
of them have been appropriated by the orthodox 
Hindu gods (NINQ iii. 147). They are the proto- 
types of the great cave-temples of the Buddhists 
and Hindus, like Ajanta or hiephanta (qq.v.). 

28. General characteristics of the Grama-deTatS 
worship.— It is obviously impossible to attempt 
any precise definition of vague, amorphous beliefs 
such as these. The creed of the lower classes of 
the population is, on the one hand, purely Ani- 
mistic, a cult of the powers of Nature. On the 
other hand, to it has been added a belief in the 
necessity of propitiating sundry goblins and evil 
spirits, many of the latter being the angry ghosts 
of persons who have perishe*! l)y a tragical or 
untimely death. This has, again, absorbed from 
Hinduism the worship of Brahmans, and from 
Muliammadanism the cult of the saints or martyrs 
of Islam. Further, we occasionally find more 
than one element united in a single cult. It is, 
therefore, unneces-sary to attempt to compile a 
list of these villaj^e-go<lling8. A few examples 
may be given to indicate the general character 
of tliia form of worship. 



3p. Worship of Gan^m Deo. — GaiUam Deo is 
an important god of the Gonds, Kols, and kindred 
races. An attempt is now being made to give 
him a place in Uindnism as a form of Kr|na ; 
but his Dravidian origin is apparent. In Mirza- 
pur he is protector of the crops, and the baigA 
priest propitiates him, when the rice is ripening, 
with the sacrifice of a fowl, goat, or sucking-pig, 
and an oblation of liquor. He generally resides in 
a tree, and near his shrine is usually placed a 
rude stone representing Devi. We have hero 
another instance of the cult of the male and female 
element performed to stimulate the growth of 
the crops (Crooke, Tribes and Castes, iii. 312). 
But Gan.sam has another side, being by some 
supposed to be a chieftain of the Gonos who was 
killed by a ti^er. His legend tells that after 
his death he visited his wife, and she conceived 
by him. 

* Descendants of this ghostly embrace are, it is siud, living to 
this day at Amoda, in the Central Provinces. He, about the 
same time, appeared to many of his old friends, and persuaded 
them that he could save them from the maws of tigers and other 
calamities, if his worship were duly inaugurated and regularly 
performed ; and, in consequence of this, two festivals in the 
year were established in his honour ; but he may be worshipped 
at any time, and in all sickness and misfortune his votaries 
confidently appeal to him ' (Dalton, 232). 

30. Worship of Bhairon. — Bhairon, another 
favourite Dravidian god, is often confounded with 
Bhumiya, who is one form of the consort of the 
Mother-goddess. He has been partially adopted 
into Hinduism as Kala Bbairava, who is often 
depicted with eighteen arms, ornamented with a 
garland of skulls, with ear-rings and armleta 
formed of snakes, a serpent coiled round his head, 
in his hands a sword and a bowl of blood. 
He is thus a fitting partner to the blood-stained 
Mother, Kali. But it seems clear that in the 
primitive conception he is one of the divine pair 
to whose union the fertility of the soil, cattle, and 
people is due. Even in his Hindulzed form 
as Kala Bhairava he retains the characters of 
Animism. As worshipped by the Kunbl cultiva- 
tors in the Deccan, fie is represented as a man 
standing ; in one hand a trident, in the other 
a drum shaped like an hour-glass, while he is 
encircled by a serpent, a mark of his chthonio 
origin. He lives in on unhewn stone smeared 
with oil and vermilion, and he remains kindly 
so long as he is supplied with oH'erings of butter. 

' He cures snake-bites, and tells whether an undertaking will 
do well or will fail. In the chest of the rough figure of lihairav 
are two small holes. The person who wishes to consult the 
oracle places a betel-nut in each of the holes, and explains to 
Bhairav that if the right betel-nut falls first it will mean that 
the undertaking will prosper, and that if the left betel-nut 
falls first it will mean that the undertaking will fail. He asks 
the god, according as the event is to be, to let the lucky or the 
unlucky nut fall first. He tells the god that if he will drop tho 
lucky nut, and if his undertaking i)rosper8, he will give the 
god a cock or a goat. Twice a year, before they begin to sow 
and before they begin to reap, the villagers come in procession 
and worship Bhairav ' {BG xviii. pt. L 2S9). 

Bhairoii or Bhumiya is also known as Khetrpal, 
or ' field-guardian.' In the Panjab, when the crop 
is nearly ripe, Brahmans are consulted to fix an 
auspicious time for reaping ; and, before the work 
is l>egun, five or seven loaves of bread, a pitcher 
of water, and a small quantity of the crop are 
set aside in the name of Khetrpal (liose, i. 126). 
Bhumiya, again, at times changes sex, and is 
identified with the Earth-Mother, and provided 
with a consort in Cliandwand or Khera, the per- 
soniliciition of the village site (NINQ v. 160). 
Like his consort, Bliuiiiiyii has a malignant aspect. 
He is said to visit with sickness those who show 
him disrespect, as, for instance, by cleaning their 
teeth near Ills shrine. 

'Those Bhumi^Tis who thus bear the reputation of being 
revengeful and vicious in temper are respected, and offerings 
to them are often made ; while those who have the character 
of easy, good-tempered fellows arc neglected ' (NISQ lit 107). 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



11 



31. Worship of Hanuman, the monkey-god. — 
In the same grade is the monkey-god, Hanuman, 
Hannmat, 'he with the jaws, also known as 
Maruti or Mahabir, 'the great hero,' who has 
become fully adopted into Hinduism as the helper 
of the god Kama in his war against the demon 
Havana, which forms the subject of the epic of 
the Rdmdyana. He is, however, plainly a sur- 
vival from the old theriolatry. He is represented 
by a rude image, combining human and monkey 
characteristics, the animal^ tail being specially 
prominent, and the whole smeared with vermilion. 
He is an especial favourite with the Marathas ; 
but most villages in Northern India have a shrine 
dedicated to Hanuman, and the establishment 
of his image is one of the first formal acts per- 
formed at the settlement of a new hamlet. In 
every fort, buUt or re-built by Sivajl, the Maratha 
hero, he placed inside the main gate a small 
shrine with an image of Hanuman (BG x. 335). 
Even now this god lias hardly gained full franchise 
in the Hindu pantheon, and in the greater shrines 
he acts as warden (dwdrapala) to the higher gods. 
His virile attributes make him a fitting partner 
of the Mother-goddess, and he is essentially a 
Dravidian eotl, bearing in his representation among 
the Dravidian Suiris of Mirzapur little of the 
monkey character except his long tail ; and he 
is identified with Boram, or the sun-god, by the 
wild Bhuiyas of Keunjhar (Buchanan, i. 467 ; 
Dalton, 147). Some years ago, when an epidemic 
broke out among the forest Kathkaris of Nasik, 
they believed that it was a judgment upon them 
because they used to kill and eat the sacred 
Hanuman monkeys. They fled the country for a 
time in order to escape his vengeance [BG xvi. 65). 

32. Spirit-worship. — Besides local gods of this 
class, most of whom are associated with the fertility 
of the land, cattle, and people, the Bravidian is 
beset by a host of spirits of another kind. 

First come the vague terrific forms, the imper- 
sonations of awe and terror, spirits of the waste or 
of the darkness, like the jinn of Semitic folk-lore 
— the Kaksasa, the Bir or Vira, the Dano, 
the Daitya. These are now all known by Aryan 
names, but their representatives were also doubt- 
less found among the Dravidians. Some account 
of these, and other like vague potentialities, will 
be found under BENGAL, § 8, poMS, § 2, and 
Demons and Spirits (Indian). 

Secondly, there is the host of BhQts or Bhutas, 
the restleas spirits of those who have perished by 
an untimely death, or have failed to reach their 
longed-for rest, because they have not been 
honoured with due obseejnial rites. They are 
generally mali^ant, and if not regularly propi- 
tiated bring disease or other suttering on those 
who neglect their service. Such are Kaja Lakhan, 
worshipped by the Kols with his sister Bela, and 
R&ja Cnandol, the tutelary god of the Korwas. 
Most of these seem to be historical personages, 
BSja Lakhan apparently having been a leader 
of the Hindus against the Muhammadan con- 
querors. They have now been deified and receive 
constant worship (Crooke, PE i. 198 if.). In the 
same class are Hardaur Lala, the cholera godling, 
and Haridas Baba, the patron deity of the Ahirs 
(q.v.). This proceas 01 deification of persons, 
famous or notorious in life, still goes on actively. 

'Bo far as I have been able to trace bock the oritpn of the 
bett-kxiown minor provincial dcitiea, they are usually men of 
pMtgenerationH who have earned special promotion and brevet 
nuik among disembodied ghostil by some peculiar acta or 
accident of their lives or deaths, especially amon^ the rude 
and rough classes' (Lyall, Atiatie Studiet-, 1907, i. 24 IT.). 

Thus Hanja (Divan, or Minister, of the Charkari 
State in Central India) died in A.D. 1768. Thongh 
be was not specially famous daring his life, a 
platform was erected at the site of his cremation, 



and a visit to it is now supposed to cure fever. 
Hira Lai was killed by robbers some eighty years 
ago ; his decapitated trunk ran three miles to the 
cremation ground ; a cairn was raised on the spot, 
which is now used as a place of prayer, where 
boons are granted (Luard, i. 75 f.). Shrines like 
these are found in all parts of the country. 

It is quite impossible to prepare a full catalogue of these 
Dravidiau village-gods. Their names and attributes vary from 
village to village, and those of any district are unknown even 
at a short distance from their place of worship. An account 
of some of the most remarkable deities of this class will be 
found in Crooke, PR i. 83 ff. Some lists of them are given 
in Elliot, Supplementary Glossary, s.v. 'Deewar*; Gait, 
CenSMS Report Bengal, 1901, i. 192 a. ; Dalai, i. 156 ; Campbell, 
312fr. ; Ibbetson, 113)1. ; AINQ iii. 38 S., 65, 128, 200, iv. 110, 
148, 181. 

33. Boundary-worship. — The local character of 
the worship of the village-gods is shown by the 
respect paid to boundaries, and in the cult of 
the deities presiding over them. The Roman wor- 
ship of Terminus, with the sanctity attached by 
the Latins to boundary-stones, is one of the most 
familiar examples of this class of beliefs (Smith, 
Diet. Antiq.' i. 90 f.). Among the Gonds the 
village boundaries are placed in charge of the 
ancestral ghosts (Sleeman, i. 269 f.). In its most 
primitive form the cult is found among the 
Dravidians of the Vindhyan and Kaimur ranges, 
who employ their baif/a priest to perambulate the 
village annually, and to mark it out with a line 
of the common liquor, distilled from rice or other 
grains, in order to prevent the inroad of foreign 
spirits, who are regarded as necessarily hostile. 
The boundary, again, is often defined by making 
a goat walk along the disputed line, and watching 
it till it gives a shiver, which is regarded as an 
indication of the wishes of the spirit, whose adjudi- 
cation is at once accepted (NINQ i. 202). The 
boundary-spirit naturally develops into a deity 
in whose charge the line is placed. Thus, accorci- 
ing to Macpherson, the Kandhs recognized Sundi 
Pennu as the boundary-god : ' particular points 
upon the boundaries of districts, fixed by ancient 
usage, and generally upon highways, are his altars, 
and these demand each an annual victim, who 
is either an unsuspecting traveller struck down 
by the priests, or a sacrifice provided by purchase ' 
{Memorials, 90 ; Calcutta Mev. v. 55). Among 
other tribes, like the Bautias of Bengal, Goraiya 
is regarded as a sort of rural Terminus ; the Tell 
oilmen otter a sucking-pig in the rainy season 
before the lump of dried mud which symbolizes 
the presence of the god, the victim after sacrifice 
being either buried in the ground or given to a 
Dosadh (q.v.), who seems to act as priest of the 
more primitive deities, and claims the offerings 
as his legitimate perquisite (Risley, Tribes and 
Castes, ii. 309). Another deity of the same type, 
Sewanriya, is the tribal god of the Bhuiyilra 
and Ghasiyas of the United I'rovinces, who 
sacrifice a goat and offer some spirits and a thick 
cake, the head of the animal and the cake being, 
the perquisite of the mahto, or headman, who 
performs the rite (Crooke, Tribes and Castes, ii. 
93, 418). Among the Santals his place is taken 
by the sima-bonga, the collective boundary-gods, 
who are propitiated twice a year with sacrifices of 
fowls offered on the boundary of the village where 
these deities are supposed to dwell (Risley, Tribes 
and Castes, ii. 234). Under the title of simanta- 
pujd, 'boundary- worship,' this has become part 
of the Hindu marriage-rites, the youth when he 
conies to fetch his l)ride being obliged to free 
himself from the foreign and hostile spirits which 
have accompanied liim, by a rite of worship 
performed at the boundary of the village of his 
bride. 

34. Implement-worship.— The worship paid to 
the implements used by the husbandman and the 



IS 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



tools of the artisan falls into a diflerent class, 
which has sometimes been included under the 
head of Fetishism— a term which possesses no 
scientilic value. In various forms it appears 
among the rural classes of Northern India. The 
nhandari barlters of Orissa, on the fourth day of 
the feast to Durga, lay their razors, scissors, and 
mirror before the image of Visvakarma, their 
patron deity, with ofTerings of sweetmeats and 
flowers (Kisley, Tribes and Castes, L 93). The 
Kaibartta fishermen of Bengal Proper celebrate 
the feast of JalpalanI in the early spring, on the 
last day of which they lay their net, smeared with 
red lead, on the river bank {ib. i. 380). The 
Kumliar potters arrange their trade implements 
and specimens of tlieir manufactures on the kiln, 
ornament them with leaves of the Bel tree (jEgle 
mannelos), and present oblations ; while the P&si 
palm-tappers set up their sickles and present offer- 
ings of ilower and grain {ib. i. 525, ii. 167). Per- 
haps the most remarkable of these so-called 
fetishes is the gurdd, or sacred chain of the baiga 
priest, which is kept in the hut dedicated to the 
god. With this the baiga lashes himself into a 
state of ecstatic frenzy, and hysterical girls are 
thrashed with it to drive the devil out of them. 
This chain, under the name of Sakla Pen, 'the 
chain god,' is worshipped byj the priests of the 
Gonds, carried in procession, v and solemnly de- 
posited in the shrine (Hislop, App. p. 8 ; Crooke, 
Tribes and Castes, iii. 441). Among purely agri- 
cultural implements, honour is especially paid to 
the plough, the corn-sieve, basket, and broom used 
in cleaning and measuring grain, and the rice- 
pounder, to which a phallic significance naturally 
attaches (Crooke, PR ii. 187 ff.). 

35. Stone-worship. — Stonesthroughout Northern 
India are recognized as the abode of spirits and 
deities. One form of this worship, that of the 
liiigam, or phallus, now appropriated to the cult of 
Siva, was formerly believed to have been adopted 
from the Dravidian tribes of the south by the 
Aryans (Oppert, 372 f.). This view is now gener- 
ally rejected. (Hopkins, iJcZ. 0/ India, 1896, p. 471). 
It is said to be alluded to by the writers of the 
Veda in the Hsna-deva, 'tail-gods,' but the cult 
was not openly acknowledged until the rise of Siva- 
worship in tne Epic period (ib. 150, 462). The 
growth of this form of worship has been attributed 
to Greek influence, while Fergusson suggests that 
the liiigam is in origin a miniature Buddhist 
dagoba, or relic-shrine (Hist, of East, and Ind. 
Ardiitecture, 1899, p. 167). The worship of Siva in 
this form probably spread throughout India at 
least as early as the 5tn or 6th cent. A.D. (Wilson, 
Essays, 1862-77, i. 224). Siva, again, is associated 
with the bull Nandi, and in this form may be com- 
pared with the Greek Dionysus in his bull form, as 
god of fertility, with which his phallic emblem is 
perhaps associated (J. E. Harrison, Prolegomena, 
«2 fl. ). Opnert (378 f . ) asserts that the Dravidians 
were originally adherents of the Sakti-, or Mother- 
worship, and that ' there e.\ists hardly any evidence 
to show that these same people worshipped the 
lihga, or the organ of generation ; and even at the 
present day we cannot point out any aboriginal 
tribe, which has retained intact its national 
customs, as revering the Phallus.' This assertion 
is probably an.over-stateracnt of the facts. As we 
have seen, most of the Dravidian tribes combine 
with the worship of the Mother-goddess that of 
her male consort, and the mimic celebration of the 
union of the divine pair suggests erotic rites. 
Hislop has collected a long Gond epic which tells 
of tlie creation and adventures of their hero, Lingo. 
But, as Dalton (282) remarks, this has obviously 
been compiled under Hindu influence, and cannot 
be regarded &.-i embodying the real traditional lore 



of the Gonds. At the same time, it suggests that 
Kng'am-worship was familiar to this tribe, and 
with them, in the form of the tiger, it was com- 
bined with animal-worship in the personification of 
their deity. Lingo or Ningo Baghiya (Forsyth, 
188). With this may be compared the worship by 
the Sudhas of Bengal of their goddess Khambes- 
wari, who is represented by a peg (Kisley, Tribes 
and Castes, ii. 268). 

36. Other stone-worship among the Dravidians. 
— Stone-worship appears m other forms among the 
Northern Dravidians. Thus we find the worship 
of cairns. The Bhils of Rajputana erect on the 
hill-tops, to the memory of the spirits of deceased 
relatives, cairns of stone, on which they place 
rude images of the horse, bum small oil lamps, 
and sometimes hang pieces of cloth. Goats or 
male buft'aloes are offered here, and the pottery 
horse-figures are made with holes through which 
the spirits of the dead are supposed to enter, and 
then travel up to heaven, when the horse is pre- 
sented to the deity (Bannennan, i. 53). Conical 
piles of stone are worshipped in Nepal as residences 
of the local gods, and are known as Deorali, a title 
also applied to one of the Himalayan peaks (Kirk- 
patricK, 60). In Mirzapur, in the United Provinces, 
Anktaha Bir is the hero impersonated by a pUe 
of rude stones, to which every traveller adds one 
as he passes by. The hero is now on the way to 

Eromotion, as the oH'erings at his shrine are taken 
y a family of Brahman priests (NINQ i. 40). 
Secondly, we find special worship of particular 
stones. In all the villages of Central India are 
stones known by the names of Moti Mata, ' pearl 
Mother,' or Lalbai-Phulbai, 'the red flower Mother,' 
which are worshipped when cholera appears. The 
Bliil barwd, or medicine-man, officiates ; he cuts off 
the head of a goat, and offers it with some lemons, 
copper coins, eggs, flowers, etc., in a piece of a 
broken earthen pot, while a toy cart, apparently 
used as a vehicle for the goddess, is placed beside 
the stones. When the head of the goat has been 
oflered, the barioa takes up the potsherd and 
places it on his head. A watchman takes a living 
goat, an attendant carrying a pot full of country 
spirits, which drops slowly out of a small hole in 
the bottom of the jar. Behind this the car of the 
goddess is dragged by a third officiant. The pro- 
cession is directed towards the famous shrine of 
Onkamatha, until they reach a village, the home 
of another goddess. Sat Matra, 'Mother of truth.' 
Here the jar and carriage are left, and by this 
means the spirit of cholera is supposed to be en- 
ticed away beyond the limits of the town, by the 
aid of her chariot, and attracted by the goat and 
spirits presented to her (Luard, i. 78). This primi- 
tive method of disease-transference illustrates the 
Animistic character of the cultus. In some cases 
the stone, which is the home of the deity, is re- 
placed by pillars of wood, blackened by constant 
offerings of oil and butter. Such are the repre- 
sentatives of Bimath, 'hero lord,' worshipped by 
the Ahlr cowherds as a protector of their cattle — 
a worship apparently identical with the cultus of 
the group of deities known as Bangaramai, Ban- 
gara Bai, or, in her Hinduized form, as Devi, who 
are worshipped in various parts of the Central Pro- 
vinces (Hislop, 15 f. ; Crooke, Tribes and Castes, 
i. 63 f . ). This pillar- worship takes various forms. 
Sometimes we hnd a stone pillar (lat) appropriated 
to the hero Bhimsen, who is probably in origin a 
Dravidian deity, but is now associated with the 
burly hero of the Mahilbhurnta epic. The Gonds 
worship him in the form of a shapeless stone 
covered with vermilion, or of two pieces of wood 
standing three or four feet above the ground, 
like those of Bangaramai. Among the Naikudfi, 
one of the Gond septs, he is represented by a huga 



DRA VIDIANS (North India) 



13 



stone rising out of the ground and covered with 
vermilion. 

* In front of this, NaikudS Ooq<^ mingle with Raj Goi^i^s and 
Kolams in acta of adoration. Tiie order of the religious service 
Beems to be as follows. At 5 p.m., having cooked a little rice, 
the worshippers place it before the god, and add a little sugar. 
They then besmear the stone with vermilion, and bum resin as 
Incense in its honour ; after which all the parties offer their 
victims, consisting of sheep, hogs, fowls, with the usual liba- 
tions of arrack. The god is now supposed to inspire the PQjari 
[priest], who rolls about his head, leaps frantically round and 
round, and finally falls down in a trance, when he declares 
whether Bhimsen has accepted the service or not. At night all 
Join in drinking, dancing, and beating tom-toms [drums]' 
(Hislop, 21 f.). 

Passing to the Plains, we find the deity repre- 
sented by stone pUlars, some of those erected by 
the Buddhist Emperor Asoka and bearing copies 
of hia edicts being appropriated by the menial 
Dravidian tribes for this form of worship. In 
Baroda the forest tribes worship several deities 
who have their abode in stones. Kavadio Dev, 
their principal deity, lives in the hollow of a ravine, 
which, it is believed, will open to receive wor- 
shippers of holy life and will reject those who are 
wicked. Goliamaya Madi, the Mother-goddess, is 
merely a huge boulder which has fallen from the 
summit of a hUl. Before it are placed clay images 
of men and animals, probably substitutes for the 
original sacrifice (Dalai, i. 156). 

Finally come the pillar stones erected as a home 
for the spirits of ancestors. Some account of these 
has been given in connexion with Ancestor- WOR- 
SHIP (vol. i. p. 431). Such are thepdliyS, or guardian 
stones, of Western India, the heroes iiuiabiting 
which are believed to scour the fields and gardens 
at night, and are consequently much dreaded 
{BG xi. 307 f., xvi. 647). The custom of erecting 
such stones has probably been borrowed from the 
Dravidians, because they are erected by the Bhils, 
and are common among the Mundas and Khasis 
(Rajputana Gazetteer, i. 122 ; Dalton, 55, 203). 

37. The development of the pantheon.— The 
earliest conception of the Dravidian deities whom 
we have been discussing represents them as gods 
of all work, to whom no definite functions are 
assigned. The formation of a pantheon, in which 
the duties of each god are clearly limited, is a much 
later development (Robertson Smith, Rel. Semites', 
39). The current accounts of some of these Dra- 
vidian pantheons must be received with some 
caution, as in the case of Macpherson's account of 
the Kandh deities. But it seems certain that 
among some of the wilder tribes this stage of 
development has been reached, though we may 
suspect that in some cases it may be traced to 
Hindu influence. Thus the Male or Maler 
Paliarias, according to Shaw (Dalton, 268 ff.), are 
said to have eight gods : Kaxie, abiding in a black 
stone, invoked when a man-eating tiger or an 
ejjidemic attacks the village ; Chal or Chalnad, 
with a similar representation and functions ; Pow 
or Pau Gos&in, god of highways ; Dwara Gosain, 
protective deity of the village ; Kul Gosain, deity 
of the sowing season ; Autga, god of liunting ; 
Gnma Go.sain, sometimes associated with Kul 
Gosain ; and Chamda Go.sain, most important of all, 
who needs such a great propitiatory offering that 
only chiefs and men of wealth can provide it. 
Later inquirers supply a different list, containing 
Dharmer or Bedo Gosain, the Sun-god, wlio rules 
the world ; Bara Duarl, ' he that has a temple 
with twelve doors,' the tutelary village - god j 
Gumu Gosain, at whose shrine ancestor-worship is 
performed, and who is represented by the pillars 
that support the rafters of the shed-like temple ; 
Chalnad, who presides over groups of ten villages ; 
Pau Gosain (the Pow of Shaw), god of highways ; 
and Chamda Gosain, most exacting of all (Bradley- 
Birt, Story of cm Indian Upland, 297 ff.). Even 



here the development of the pantheon is only em- 
bryonic, and the duties of the several deities are 
but imperfectly distributed. The Santal pantheon 
is equally vague, having, as some authorities 
believe, in the background a fainiant Supreme 
Being, known as Thakur, who is occasionally 
identified with the Sun ; deities of Nature, like 
Marang Burn, the mountain-god, and Jair or 
Jahir Era, goddess of the sacred grove ; besides 
a separate gijpup of family-gods, arranged in two 
divisions — the Orak-bonga, or regular family-deity, 
and the Abge-bonga, or secret god (Risley, Tribes 
and Castes, ii. 232). The other more Hinduized 
tribes have in the same way developed deities 
with special functions, like Darapat Deo with his 
wife AngarmatI, the war-gods of the Kharwars of 
the Kaimur range, and Zorbad Deota, a god of 
hunting (NINQ iv. 36, 77). 

38. Theogonies.— Some of the North Dravidian 
tribes have framed elaborate theogonies with 
legendary accounts of the creation of man and of 
the dispersal of the tribes. Thus the Mundas tell 
how the self-existent primeval deities, Ote Boram 
and Sing-bonga, created a boy and girl, taught 
them the art of love, and placed them in a cave to 
people the world (Dalton, 185). The Kandh legend 
of the struggle between Barha Pennu, the Supreme 
Being, god of light, and his consort, Tari, the 
Earth-goddess, which ends in the creation of man 
and all other living things, is more elaborate, and 
has probably been embellislied by the vivid im- 
agination of the natives who supplied Macpherson 
with his information {Memorials, 84 ff. ). The Gond 
legend of the birth and adventures of Lingo has 
already been noticed (§ 35). Among the more 
advanced and Hinduized tribes, legends of this 
kind seem to have almost entirely disappeared, 
overlaid by the traditions connected with the 
Hindu gods, who have gradually displaced or 
absorbed the tribal deities. 

39. Sacrifice. — The theory underlying the prac- 
tice of sacrifice is, according to the well-known 
but not universally accepted theory of Robertson 
Smith, the desire to attain communion with the 
god by joining with him in the consumption of the 
flesh of the victim or the fruits of the earth 
offered at his shrine. In the modern view of the 
Dravidians, however, it is purely a business trans- 
action, do ut des, an arrangement that, if the god 
fulfils the desires of the worshipper, he will receive 
a sacrifice in return. Totemism, as we have seen 
(§ 25), has almost completely ceased to influence 
the popular beliefs, and it is thus impossible to 
trace the steps by which, if it was ever the 
general rule among this peojjle, the slaughter of 
the totem animal developed into the methods of 
sacrifice which are in use at present. Here, too, 
as is the case with all their beliefs and rites, there 
is no literary evidence of any kind to assist us. 
There is, however, some scanty evidence to prove 
that the modern custom may have a totemistio 
basis. Thus the Parahiyas of the KaimOr range 
hold the goat in great respect — a feeling which 
among the Bengal branch of the tribe ajiplies to 
sheep and deer. There is a current tradition that, 
as a means of purification, they in former times 
used the dung of these animals to smear the floors 
of their huts ; this substance has now been re- 
placed by cow-dung (Dalton, 131). If this be a 
case of a survival of totemism, not of the ordinary 
worship of animals, it is notewortliy that in Mir- 
zapur they propitiate the mountain-goddess, whom 
they now call Devi, with the sacrifice of a goat. 
Before the animal is slain, it is fed on a few grains 
of rice, and water is poured upon its head. This 
they call, not '.sacrifice, but 'goat-worsliip' ; and 
sometimes, when the Devi is worshipped to avert 
an epidemic of cholera, the goat is not sacrificed, 



u 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



bat releued as a scape-animal (Crooke, Tribes and 
(kutet, iv. 130). More signilicant than this U the 
rale that after socriKce the flexb of the animal 
must be consuniod by the worshipper and his clans- 
men, then and there, in the ininiudiale ])resence 
of the deity— a rule which is characteristic of totem 
sacrilices (Jevons, Inlrod. 145 f.). In facit, as was 
the case in ancient Israel, all slaughter is equiva- 
lent to sacrifice (IloberUon Smith, Rel. Semites', 
241). This, it may be noted, is also the Hindu 
rule, and many of those who indul^ in meat use 
only that of sacrificed animals, following the rule 
of Manu (Institutes, v. 31) that meat must Ite eaten 
only on occasion of sacrifice. The Dravidians are 
specially careful not to share the sacred meat with 
strangers, or even with members of their own tribe 
ontside the inner circle of relationship. 

40. Methods of sacrifice. — The methods of sacri- 
fice diiier among the various tribes. In the more 
primitive form the ritual is cruel: the Goalas 
of Bengal turn a pig loose amidst a herd of 
buffaloes, which are encouraged to gore it to death 
(Risley, Tribes and Castes, i. 290). We occasion- 
ally find among the northern tribes the habit of 
tearing the victim in pieces, as in the Gond sacri- 
fice to BagheSvar, the tiger-god (Dalton, 280). 
This points to an original habit of eating the flesh 
of the victim raw, vrhich survived in some of the 
Greek mysteries and the practices of the BacchsE, 
and appears among the southern branches of the 
tribe, where a lamb is torn to pieces bjr a man with 
his teeth {Bulletin Madras Museum, lii. 265). At 
a Devi shrine in Gorakhpor the pigs to be ofTered 
are brought to the temple with their hind legs 
tied ; and, the throats of the animals being half cut 
with a blunt knife, they are allowed to bleed to 
death before the altar (^INQ v. 202). The Tiyars 
of Bengal, like many of the other menial castes, 
when Uiey offer a goat to Kali at the Divali, or 
feast of lights, do not decapitate the victim, but 
stab it in the throat with a sharp piece of wood 
(Wise, 393). The ordinary method, however, is by 
decapitation. 

In Northern Bengal the usual shrine of Kali con- 
sists of a heap of earth, generally placed under a 
tree, with a stake to which the head of the victim 
is fastened, so that the neck may be stretched out 
for decapitation (Buchanan, ii. 749). The Gorkha 
custom of sacrificing buffaloes, by one, or at most 
two blows, is a humane rite ; but that of the 
Newars, or aborigines of the country, who allow 
the animal to bleed slowly to death, is very cruel 
and very disgusting (Oldfleld, Sketches, ii. 34611'.). 
Such was also the custom of the Bhumij of Chota 
Nagpur at the Binda-parab feast. Two male 
buffaloes were driven into an enclosure, and on a 
raised stage adjoining and overlooking it the Raja 
and his suite used to take their places. After 
some ceremonies, the Raja and his family priest 
discharged arrows at the victims. 

'Othen follow their example, and the tormented and enraged 
btuto fall to and gore each other, while arrow alter arrow is 
diacharged. When the animals are past doing very much 
mlKbiel, the people rush in and hack at them with battle- 
ue* till they are dead. The Santals and wild KharriSs, it is 
Mid. took great delight in this festival ; but I have not heard a 
murmur at itc discontinuance, and this shows that it had no 
Stmt, hold on the minds o( the people' (Dalton, 178). 

It is the general rule that the victim should die 
from the effects of a single stroke. At the worship 
of M&ri Mata, the cholera goddess, at Kftngra, one 
of the hill districts of the Panjab, the animal, a ram, 
he-goat, or cock, must be decapitated with a sharp 
sword at a single blow. If more than one stroke 
be needed, it is believed that the goddess has not 
been duly propitiated and that the ceremony has 
failed (PNQ i. 1). Much importance, therefore, 
is laid on the act of strikinfj the first blow (Jevons, 
Introd. 291). In Kumann, in the lower Himalaya, 



bull buflaloee are ofTered to K&ll in the event of 
drought. 

* Each buffalo is successively led to the door of the temple for 
decapitation ; the flrvt stroke is inflicted by the principal 
zemindar [land-owner], and, if not innnediatcly fatal, is followed 
up by repeated blows from the surroundinfr crowd, until the 
animal is despatched, or rather lia<:ked in pieces' (Traill, 
Slatiitical Sketch 0/ Kumaun, 1828, p. 68). 

When a fowl is being sacrificed by the Santals 
to the mountain-god, Marang Buru, the sharp 
national axe is held securely on the ground with 
the blade pointing upwards, and the priest, taking 
the bird in both hands, presses its neck heavily 
upon the upturned edge, severing the head from 
the body ; the blood is then scattered over the 
stones which form the altar of the god (Bradley- 
Birt, Story of an Indian Upland, 258, with a 
photograph of a kid sacrifice). In Baroda the 
ritual of the Animistic worship consists in burning, 
as incense, some clarified butter before the god, 
and then sprinkling spirits on small heaps of rice. 
After this the worshipi)er kills a cock by cutting 
its throat, plucks out the feathers, and places 
bundles of them before the god ; he then cooks 
the fowl, and lays some of the cooked meat on the 
altar, paints the idol with vermilion, and hangs 
flags over it. While these rites are going on, the 
tribal musical instruments are played. When the 
ceremony is over, the worshippers consume the 
remainder of the food (Dalai, i. 156). 

41. The times of sacrifice. — No special time is 
appointed for the Dravidian sacrifices. At the 
more important festivals of the Mother-goddess 
the victims are slaughtered throughout the day 
and night. In some Greek shrines it was the 
custom to slay the victim at night and consume 
the flesh before the dawn (Patisanias, II. xxvii. 1, 
X. xxxviii. 4). This was also the rule among the 
Arabs (Robertson Smith, Mel. Semites^, 282). For 
the Hindu ^lagava sacrifice, in which the victim, 
as the name implies, seems to have been pierced 
with a spike or lance, the time was fixed after 
midnight; but some authorities preferred the 
dawn (Rajendralala Mitra, Indo-Aryans, i. 364 ; 
Jevons, Introd. 146). This rule still prevails 
among the Prabhus of western India, who at 
marriages sacrifice a goat to the famUy-goddess. 
In some families the rite is done at midnight on 
the day before the marriage. The goat is brought 
into the room and made to stand before the image. 
One of the married women of the family comes 
forward, washes the victim's feet, sprinkles red 
powder on its head, and, after waving a lighted 
lamp round its face, retires. The eldest man in 
the household lays a bamboo winnowing-fan with 
a handful or two of rice in it before the goat, and, 
taking a sword, stands on one side. While the 
animal is eating the rice, he cuts off' the head with 
one stroke, holds up the head, lets a few drops of 
blood trickle over the image of the goddess, and 
then places the head on a metal plate under the 
seat of the deity (BG xviii. pt. 1. 195). At the 
shrine of Bechraji in Baroda tJie victims are slain 
at dead of night, ' in order not to olTend the feelings 
of Brahmans and others ' (ib. vii. 614). 

42. The self-surrender of the victim. — The 
feeding of the victim before sacrifice is probably 
a means of propitiating it, and suggesting that it 
is a willing victim. Wnen the Rautias of Bengal 
sacrifice an animal to Bar Pahar, the mountoin- 
god, the victim is given rice to chew, and ia 
decked with flowers before being slain (Risley, 
Tribes and Castes, ii. 203). At the worship of 
the Mother-goddess, Bechraji, when a buffalo is 
brought for sacrifice, red powder and flowers are 
sprinlcled over the animal, and it is worshipped. 
A white cloth is thrown over the back 01 the 
beast, and a garland of flowers, removed from the 
image of the goddess, is hung round its neck. A 



DRA VIDIANS (North India) 



IS 



lamp filled from one of those burning in the shrine 
is brought lighted from the inner room and placed 
on the stone altar in front of the temple. The 
buffalo is then let loose, and if it goes and smells 
the lamp it is considered to be acceptable to the 
Devi, and is slain at once, if possible by a single 
stroke of a sword. A blood-stained flower is pre- 
sented to the deity, and the bystanders apply some 
of the blood to their foreheads. The blood is be- 
lieved to bring health and prosperity, and even 
Brahmans preserve cloths dipped in the blood, as 
charms against disease. If the buffalo refuses to 
smell the lamp placed on the stone altar, it is taken 
away, after one of its ears has been cut and a drop 
of the blood offered to the goddess on a flower (BG 
vu. 614). 

A more common method is to test the victim by 
pouring water on it, which was a custom in Greece 
(J. E. Harrison, Prolegomena, 502). When the 
Thags did sacrifice to Devi, their patron goddess, 
they used to place on a white sheet the consecrated 
pickaxe and knives used in their murders, with the 
spirits provided for the feast. Two goats were 
selected, black and perfect in all their parts. They 
were bathed and made to face the west ; and, if they 
shook themselves lustily to throw off the moisture 
from their bodies, they were considered acceptable 
to the goddess. If only one shook itself, both were 
accepted. If neither did so, it was a sign that Devi 
had rejected both, and the party ate the rice and 
drank the spirits. But this was regarded in the 
light of a simple meal, and the sacrifice was post- 
poned to another occasion. When the sacrificial 
least took place, the skins, bones, and offal of the 
victims were thrown into a pit, and they were re- 
garded as so sacred that none but a Thag was 
allowed to see them (Thornton, Illustrations of the 
History and Practices of the Thugs, 1837, p. 68 f.). 
The rule that the victim must shake its head in 
token of acceptance is also found in the Panjab 
(Rose, i. 118). 

J ,3. Variehr, sex, and colour of the victim. — The 
es as to the variety, sex, and colour of the victim 
are not very clearly defined. The animals most 
commonly sacrificed are buffaloes, goats, pigs, and 
fowls. TTie Bhils of Khandesh show their complete 
divorce from Hinduism by sacrificing a bullock to 
their gods Hatipawa and Vaghicha Kunvar, ' the 
tiger lord,' whUe their otlier deities receive a he- 
goat or a fowl — a cock for the god, a hen for the 
goddess (BG xii. 93). The Kanjar gypsies of the 
United Provinces offer a pig to Nathiya ; a lizard 
to Mana Guru ; a goat to Devi ; a pig to Jakhiya ; 
a fowl to Madar (Crooke, Tribes and Castes, iii. 
147). The Mundfis offer a male buffalo to Deswall, 
their village-god, and fowls to his consort, Jahir 
Bflrhl (Risley, Tribes and Castes, ii. 103). But this 
distinction of victims seems to be exceptional. 

The colour of the victim offered to the chthonic 
and malignant powers (like the Greek (r^idytoy [J. E. 
Harrison, Prolegomena, 68]) ouglit to be black. 
When the forest tribes of the Kaiinur range offer 
sacrifice to Churel, a malignant female deity, it 
should consist of a black she-goat and a black 
fowl ; BansaptJ, the forest-goddess, is less actively 
malignant, and is honoured with a grey or spotted 
goat (NINQ i. 57). Among the Marathas, fowls 
with ruffled feathers are peculiarly acceptable 
offerings in cases of disease, and if a cock be sacri- 
ficed it should l)e able to crow (BG xi. 34). Fol- 
lowing the same laws of symbolic magic, the Kisans 
and Bhniyas of Bengal oil'er a white cock to Boram, 
the Sun-god (Dalton, 132, 141). 

4^ The head of the victim.— The head of the 
victim is universally regarded as sacrosanct, as was 
the case with the Semites (Robertson Smith, Rel. 
Semites^, 379). Among tlie Dra vidian tribes it is 
sometimes, when Mvered, laid upon the altar of 



the deity in whose honour the sacrifice is being 
made, but more usually it is the portion of the 
priest (Dalton, 142 ; Crooke, Tribes and Castes, 
1. 8). The Bli.ats of the United Provinces, who 
pretend to be orthodox Hindus, practise the curious 
rite of sacrificing a pig to the village-god, Birtiya, 
this being done by a low caste Chamar ojhd, or 
medicine-man, who cuts off the head, buries it deep 
in the ground, and appropriates the remainder of 
the flesh (Crooke, TC ii. 26). 

45. Commutation of animal sacrifice. — The ani- 
mal sacrifice is occasionally commuted in deference 
to the humanitarian ideas of the Vaisnava and 
Jain sectaries. In one form of the rite, slaughter 
of the animal is replaced by merely cutting the ear, 
letting a few drops of blood fall on the ground or 
upon the altar, and then allowing the animal to 
escape (Rose, i. 120). The same custom probably 
in part explains the rite of letting loose a bull 
(vrisotsarga), when devotees release an animal in 
sacred cities like Benares or Gaya, or when a young 
animal is branded with the trident of §iva, and 
released in the course of the ^raddha, or mind-rite 
(see Ancestor- WORSHIP, vol. i. p. 452*'). The more 
primitive form of the rite was to slay the animal, 
with the object of providing food for the spirit of 
the deceased. This rule is still in force among the 
more secluded tribes, like the Gonds, who kill a 
cow after the burial, sprinkle its blood upon the 
grave, and hang up the tail of the victim on the 
gravestone, as evidence that the funeral rites have 
been duly performed. In default of this, it is sup- 
posed that the spirit is unable to rest, and returns 
to haunt the survivors (I A i. 348 ff.). 

46. The scape-animal. — The animal sacrifice, 
again, is commuted into the scape-animal, with 
the addition of the belief, common among the 
Dravidians, that it is ' the vehicle which carries 
away the collected demons or ills of a whole 
community' (Frazer, GB"^ iii. 101). This rite is 
most commonly performed as a means of remov- 
ing epidemic disease ; e.g., in the United Provinces 
during an epidemic of cholera, a buffalo bull is 
marked with vermilion and driven beyond the 
village boundary, thus taking away the disease 
with him. When the idea is still further worked 
out by Brahmans, it develops by painting the 
beast all over with lampblack and smearing its 
forehead with vermilion, to represent tlie ' vehicle ' 
on whicli Yama, the ^od of death, rides. To make 
the charm more effective, the scape-animal is loaded 
with pieces of iron, as a potent protective against 
evil spirits (NINQ i. 102, v. 116). 

47. Human sacrifice. — Human sacrifice was, as 
is well known, common among the Dravidians, 
and the best illustration of it is derived from the 
Kandh (q.v.) rite of meriah sacrifice. Probably 
most of the rites of the same kind performed by 
the allied tribes were done with the same inten- 
tion (Crooke, PR ii. 167 ff.). As was the case in 
Greece, we find survivals which probably indicate 
a commutation of the rite (Lang, Myth, Ritual, 
and Religion [ed. 1899], i. 261 ff.). Thus, at Nasik 
in the Deccan, when cholera appears, a woman of 
the Mang, a menial tribe, is solemnly led out of 
the city as a scape-victim. She remains outside 
the city limits till the next day, when she bathes 
and returns. The ceremonial, which clo.sely re- 
sembles that of bringing a victim to a shrine, 
doubtle-ss implies an earlier rite of human sacrifice 
(BGxvi. 521). Another rite resembles that of the 
self-immolation of pilgrims, who used in former 
times to fling themselves, in the name of Siva, 
over the clift' known as Bhairava Jhamp, near the 
famous shrine of Kedarnath in the lower Himalaya ; 
this rite seems to have prevailed farther west in 
the hills of the Panjab (Atkinson, ii. 773 ; Rose, 
i. 133). It has now been commuted into paying 



16 



DRA VIDIANS (North India) 



lor the services of a bSdi, or rope-dancer, who slides 
on a wooden saddle upon a cable hung ifron^a pre- 
cipitous diir, as a means of i)ropitiating Siva in 
some Kumaun vUlages {NINQ i. 55, 74 f., 128, 
iii. 205). In the form of the Hiliundil rite the same 
custom prevails in the Panjab on the river Sutlej 
(Rose, i. 133). In Barodii, at the worxhip of Vagli 
Deo, the tiger-god, a man is covered with a blanket, 
bows to the image, and walks round it seven times. 
During this performance the worshippers slap him 
on the back. He then tries to escape to the forest, 
parsned by the children, who fling balls of clay at 
nim, and finally bring him back, the rite enaing 
with fea.sting and drinking (Dalai, i. 156). 

48. Periodical sacrifices. — The main tribal sacri- 
fices of the Dravidians are not, as a rule, performed 
annually, and the victims sometimes vary from year 
to year. The Mundas sacrifice every second year 
a fowl, every third year a ram, every fourth year 
a buffalo, to their mountain-god, Marang Buru ; 
and the main object is to induce him to send favour- 
able rain ( Dal toUj^ 199). The Tipperas have a legend 
that their king, Sri Dharma, enjoined that human 
sacrifices in honour of Siva should be offered only 
triennially {ib. lU). This rule of triennial sacri- 
fices is followed by the KharwSrs, Cheros, and 
N&gbansis, while the Kaurs offer a fowl yearly to 
the tribal Sati, and a black goat every third year 
(Buchanan, i. 493 ; Dalton, 129, 135, 138). There 
are other instances of feasts celebrated at intervals 
of more than a year, such as the Theban Daphne- 
phoria and the Boeotian Dmdala { Frazer, Pausanias, 
T. 41 f., GBM. 225f., iii. 328 n.). Those which 
recur at intervals of eight years seem to be based 
on an attempt to harmonize lunar and solar time, 
just as the twelve years' feasts in South India may 
roughly represent Jupiter's period of revolution 
round the sun (Frazer, Kingship, 294 f.). But it 
is difficult to suppose that considerations such as 
these could have mfluenced people in the state of 
coltnre possessed by the Northern Dravidian tribes. 
It is possible that, in some cases, considerations of 
economy and the cost of providing the necessary 
victims may have suggested the rule that the 
sacrifices should take place at intervals longer 
than that of a year. 

49. The priesthood. — It is said of the Kurkils 
of the Central Provinces that ' they have no priest- 
hood, by class or profession, and their ceremonies 
are performed by the elders of the iajwly' (Central 
Pr. Gaz. , Nagpur, 1870, p. 49). It is true that among 
many of the North Dravidian tribes the domestic 
worship, including that of deceased ancestors, is 
performed by the senior member of the household, 
or by the house father. But practically all these 
tribes have reached the stage of possessing priests. 
The term ' priest,' however, does not usually define 
with accuracy the functions of this officiant, the 
duties of medicine-man, sorcerer, exorcist, or witch- 
finder l)eing generally combined in a single indi- 
vidual or class. Thus, at the Munda rites in honour 
of Desauli, the village patron god, ' the sacrifice and 
offerings are made by the village priest, if there 
be one ; or, if not, by any elder of tlie village who 
possesses the necessary legendary lore' (Dalton, 
196). Among the Males of Bengal the village 
headman acts as priest in the worship of Dharmer 
(xosain (Uisley, Tribes and Castes, ii. 57). 

The priest, again, among the Kandhs is often 
identified with the shaman. 

' The priesthood may be »»sumed by any one who chooses to 
tmett. a call to the minUtry ot any god, such call needinR to be 
authenticated only by the claimant's rcmainin)? for a period 
raryinjf from one night to ten or fourteen days in a languid 
dreamy, confused stAte, the consequence of the absence of his 
third soul in the divine presence. And the ministry which may 
be thus aasume<l may, with few exceptions, be laid down at 
plearare ' (Macpherson, 103). 

Their ^annw, or priests, he goes on to say, are 
divided into two classes — 



* one which has given up the world, and devotes itself excla- 
sively to religious oftices ; and one which may stiU engage In 
every occupation excepting war. The former class are disposed 
to hold that they alone are qualiHed to perform the rites of tba 
greater deities ; but tlie two classes pa&i insensibly into ooa 
another, and many of both are seen to perform every oer». 
monial, — with two exceptions, namely, the rite of human neusA' 
flee, at which a great and fully instructed priest alone can 
officiate ; and the worship of the god of war, which his own 
priesthood alone can conduct. And this god, it is to be ob- 
served, requires that his priest shall serve him only, while id] 
the other deities accept divided service from their ministers' 
(ib. 104). 

The ' great janni,' or ascetic who has given np 
the world, 

* can possess no property of any kind, nor money, nor, according 
to his rules, even look upon a woman ; and he must generally 
appear and act as unlike other men as possible, lie must live 
in a filthy hut, a wonder of abomination. He must not wash 
but with spittle ; nor leave his dcx)r, save when sent for ; except, 
perhaps, when he wanders to draw liquor from some neglected 
palm-tree, at the foot of which he may be found, if required, 
Ij'ing half drunk. He scarcely ever wears a decent cloth or 
blanket. He connnonly carries in his liand a broken axe or 
bow, and has an excited, sottish, sleepy look ; but his ready wit 
never fails him in his otHce. He eai^ such choice morsels as a 
piece of the grilled skin and the feet of the sacrificial buffaloes, 
and the heads of the sacrificed fowls : and, when a deer is cut 
up, he gets for his share perhaps half the skin of the head with 
an ear on, and some ot the hairy skinmiings of the pot.* 

The layman priest, on the other hand, has a wife 
and family, and may accumulate wealth. He eats 
apart from other laymen, but may drink \vith 
them (ib. 104 f.). These statements must be ac- 
cepted with some amount of caution, as Mac- 
pherson, relying on information received from his 
native subordinates, was inclined to attribute a 
more elaborate system of beliefs and ritual to the 
Kandhs than the tribe probably ever possessed. 

Among the other tribes of the same family this 
ascetic class of priest does not seem to exist, though, 
of course, the diviner or witch-finder often adopts 
the shamanistic tricks which are the common pro- 
perty of his kind. Macpherson also records the 
singular fact that some Hindus were employed by 
the Kandhs to assist in the service of the minor 
deities. 

* This alone would indicate that there has been a great cliange 
in their religion ; but it is probable that the low Hindus alluded 
to are but the Ojhiis or sorcerers whom the witchcraft super- 
stition has called into existence' (Dalton, 296). 

50. Priestly titles. — Along the Kaimur range 
and in Chota Nagpur the tribal priest is known 
as the baiga (q.v.). Among the more Hindu- 
ized tribes he is known by the titles of pdhan (Skr. 
pradhdna, 'leader') or piijdri, 'one who does the 
service of the gods,' both titles being borrowed 
from the Hindus of the Plains. No village is 
without a baiga, and such is the superstition of 
the people, that they would rather leave a village 
than live without him. Usually he is a raeml^r 
of one of the non-Aryan tribes, and is generally 
selected from those who live in the more remote 
tracts, and who, not being contaminated by Hindu 
beliefs and culture, are supposed to have the most 
accurate knowledge of the evil spirits, and the 
modes of placating and repelling them. In the 
more civilized villages in Palamau, Forbes found 
that even Brahmans and Rajputs were being occa- 
sionally appointed to this office — a sign of the pro- 
gressive process of bringing the tribes under the 
Hindu yoke. The baiga is looked up to with awe 
by all the residents, is responsible for the appear- 
ance of disease in man or beast, and is bound to 
offer up the sacrifices necessary to repel it. 

* He is supposed to be better informed on all that concerns 
the village than any one else, and to be able to point out each 
man's tenure. Among the Jungle tribes he is mvariabl^ the 
arbitrator in all disputes as regards land or rent, and is the 
oracle in all discussions aflFecting the ancient customs and rites 
of the village, with all of which he is sujiposed to be intim.ately 
acquainted. He is bound at the comnienoenient of each harvest 
to olfer up sacnflces and perform certain ceremonies to pro- 
pitiate the spirits. For this purpose he levies contributions of 
money, grain, cloth, fowls, and goats from all villagers. ^ Until 
these sacrifices have been performed, no one would think of 
yoking a plough ; and the Baiga often takes advantage of the 
delay to increase his demands ' {NISQ iv. 5). 



DRA VIDIANS (North India) 



17 



The official among the Gonds bears the same 
name. 

' The nuptial, funeral, and similar ceremonies are performed 
under the lead of aged relations. But generally in every village 
there is a man who is supixjsed to have the power of charming 
tigers and preventing by spells (mantra) such calamities as 
drought, cholera, etc. He is called a Baiga' (JASB, 1890, 
p. 282). 

The pdhan of the Cheros and Kharwars, and 
the laya or nayd (apparently a corruption of Skr. 
ndyaka, ' leader ') of the Koras, exercise similar 
functions (Dalton, 129; Risley, Tribes and Castes, 
i. 509). 

SI. Appointment of priests. — In Chota Nagpur, 
according to Forbes (NINQ iv. 5), the office of 
priest is hereditary ; 

'but in the event of its becoming necessary to appoint a new 
Baiga, a meeting of the entire community is held, arid the suc- 
cessor is appointed by vote ; the individual selected is then 
called on to accept the post, and, in the event of his doing so, a 
day ifl fixed for the ceremony of installation. On the appointed 
day the whole village comnumity meets in solenm conclave ; 
the village headman presides, and the proceedings commence 
by his calling upon the candidate to state publicly whether he 
is willing to accept the office, and the duties he will have to 
perform are explained to him. He is then conducted round 
the boundaries of the village, the different landmarks of which 
are explained to him. The whole party then returns to the 
place of meeting, when the president, taking up the Baiga's 
instruments of office, which are known as '• the knife and 
■l^gg^r," solemnly hands them to the new incumbent, and the 
installation is complete. These are the sacrificial instruments, 
and are heirlooms of the village ; they are presented in the 
formal manner above described to each successive Baiga, and 
are used solely in sacrifice.* In the villages more under Hindu 
infiuence these hereditary implements of the Baiga seem to 
have fallen into disuse. 

In other cases a special ceremony is performed to ascertain 
the will of the local deity regardmg the appointment of his 
priest. In Kunawar, on the lower slopes of the Himalaya, at 
one of the greater Hindu festivals, the villagers bathe, and, 
patting some water in the drinkingKiups at tne shrine of the 
local god, invoke him. * He who is chosen is miraculously rapt 
or inspired by the god, and. taking up the cup, he is able to 
distribute grain from it, although it contained nothing but 
water. The Deota [godJing] may also declare his pleasure in 
this matter by imbuing one of his votaries with the power of 
thrasting, unharmed or unmarked, an iron rod through some 

Krtion of his flesh. It is the custom in one village to ask the 
ota from time to time after the death of his priest whether 
he wishes a successor appointed. The image is raised upon the 
shoulders of the people, and, if the god presses heavily to the 
left, he wishes the election postponed ; if to the right, he wishes 
it to take place without delay ' (.PNQ i. 12). 

Similar ceremonies are performed by the other 
Dravidian tribes. Among the Mundas the ^dAare 
is always selected from among the descendants of 
the earliest settlers in the village, who alone 
pnderstand how to propitiate the local gods. He 
i» always selected from one family, but the actual 
pdhan IS changed at intervals of from three to five 
years, by the rite of the sacred winnowing-fan — 
mystica vanrms lacchi. This is taken from house 
to house by the village boys, and the man at whose 
house it halts is elected ; the same method of selec- 
tion prevails among the Oraons (Risley, Tribes and 
Castes, ii. 106 f.; Dalton, 247). 

52. Priestly tabus.— Among the Malers the 
demdno is appointed by Divine election. After 
his call he must spend a certain time in the 
wilderness, in intimate communication, as his 
flock believes, with the deity, Bedo Gosain. From 
the time that any one devotes himself to the 
priestly profession, his hair is allowed to grow like 
that of a Nazirite, because his powers of divina- 
tion entirely disappear if he cuts it. The cutting 
of the hair of a holy man is, as Frazer shows (GB' 
i. 368), dangerous for two reasons ; first, there is 
the danger of disturbinjj the spirit of the head, 
which niay be injured in the process, and may 
revenge itself upon the person who molests him ; 
■econdly, the difficulty of disposing of the shorn 
locks, which may be accidentally injured, and 
thus, on the principles of sympathetic magic, may 
endanger the original owner, or may lie u.sed by 
some evil-minded person to work black magic 
against him. After admission to full orders the 

VOL. V. — 2 



Maler priest mu.st establish his ability to foretell 
events, and 

' he must prove by the performance of some stupendous work 
beyond the strength of one man, that he is supematurally aided 
by the Supreme Being. The priest may be a married man, but 
after entering holy orders he must refrain from associating 
with or touching an^ woman except his wife. Having under- 
gone all the teats, his nomination la finally confirmed by the 
Manjhi [headman] of the village, who ties a red silk thread to 
which cowries are attached round his neck, and binds a turban 
on his head. He is then allowed to appear at the periodical 
sacrifice of buffaloes celebrated by the Manjhi in the month of 
January, and must drink some of the blood of the victim 
(Dalton, 270). 

Another interesting tabu of the Dravidian priests 
is that enforced at Zinda Kaliana in the Panjab, 
where they are required always to sleep on the 
ground or on a square bed of grass mme on the 
ground between four posts. This reminds us of 
the Helloi or Selloi, priests of the Pelasgian Zeus 
of Dodona, who sleep upon the ground and have 
their feet unwashed, and of the Prussian priests 
who sleep in tents near the sacred oak (Horn. II. 
xvi. 234 /.; Sophocles, Track. 1167; Rose, i. 118 f.; 
JAIxxx. 36). 

53. Remuneration of priests. — The methods of 
remunerating the Dravidian priest vaiy. Usually 
he supports himself on the head of the victims 
and portions of the other offerings which are his 
perquisite. Among the Mundas he has a glebe 
of rent-free land, and among the other tribes he 
receives gifts of grain and other produce at harvest 
time, and food at the chief tribal feasts. 

54. The sister's son as priest. — The fact that 
inheritance among many of the people in North 
India is traced through the female has been held 
to indicate the prevalence of polyandry in ancient 
times. 'It was probably wide-spread amongst 
many tribes in other parts of India who at the 
present day retain no tradition of the practice' 
(Risley -Gait, Census Report, 1901, i. 448). This is 
specially shown in the case of those tribes among 
whom the sister's son does sacrifice to appease the 
spirit of the deceased. Thus among the Haris of 
Bengal a pig is sacrificed on the tenth day after 
a death to appease the spirit of the departed, the 
flesh being eaten by the relatives, while the 
nephew (sister's son) of the dead man officiates 
as priest ; and the same is the case among the 
Poms (q.v.), Musahars, Pasis, and Tantis of 
the same province (Risley, Tribes and Castes, i. 
316, ii. 167, 300). Among the Arakhs of the 
United Provinces, if the services of a Brahman 
cannot be secured, the sister's son of the deceased 
can officiate ; the Bhuiyars hold him in great 
honour, and make periodical presents to him as 
the Hindus do to a Brahman ; among tlie Doms, 
as in Bengal, he is the funeral priest ; an)oiig the 
Kols the marriage rites are performed by the same 
relative (Crooke, Tribes and Castes, i. 83, ii. 95, 
325 f., iii. 309 ; Dalton, 63). This primitive form 
of priesthood is almost certainly a survival of the 
matriarchate. A record of the struggle between 
the matriarchate and the patriarchate has been 
traced in the Kandh legend, which tells how Tari, 
the Earth-goddess, contends with her consort, 
Burba Pennu. The latter is finally victorious, 
and as a sign of Tari's discomfiture imposes, as in 
the Semitic story, the cares of childbirth upon her 
sex (Macpherson, 84 ff.). 

55- The aboriginal priest adopted into Hindu- 
isin.— The process of adoption of these aboriginal 
priests into Hinduism has been clearly traced in 
the Central Provinces by Rus.sell (i. 176 f.). Here 
the class of village priests or astrologers, the 
joshi, jogl, jangnm, and his fellows, occupy for 
the lower castes the position which Brahmans hold 
in the higher strata. 

'.They are the ministrants of the more primitive form of 
religion— that of the village gods. In many cases their ritual 
has probably been derived from a Dravidian source, and they 



18 



DBAVIDIANS (North India) 



I 



UMiDMlvn in»y be Uie promoUd de8ctnd»nl« of the triW 
prieeU, mediciiJe-roen. or witch-Bn. er. It i> t™« ""t they 
ue noW for the meet I»rt employe.! in the Kr%noe o the Hinda 
■txU. bat thle i« preWbly « kind of rel.i,Hous evolution, of a 
n2tai» Skinto the wcUl ^ev.tion Into llinduism of the caste- 
katribas : •nd. moreover, different .uthontie. have held that 
nlnrf«t<^re* <i the cult of 6lva and K4U, which /^F"™' » 
irSt i^SSfrreeeloD from the purer nature god» of the Vcdae, 
tikve been derived from Dr» vidian source*. 

56 The priestly castes.— Further, we find among 
some of the Dravidian tribes that certain castes, 
pos-sibly in imitation of the Braliman Icvites of 
ilinduisra, have become specialized for religious 
puriioses, and furnish priests to the lower orders. 
Thus the Mauliks of Manbhum and Western 
Bengal act as priesta of the meaner tribes. 

•Their ofBcea aa pricsta of the various spiritual powers who 
haunt the foresU, rocks, and fields and bring disease upon 
nan and beast are in great request. A Bhumij or a Kurmi 
who wishes to propitiate these dimly-conceived but potent 
influences will send for a Maiilik to offer the necessary sacri- 
flcea In preference to a Liyi or priest of his own caste— a fact 
which speaks strongly for the antiquity of the settlement of the 
former in the country '(Risley, Tribe* and CasUt, 11. 63). 

The baiga (y.f.) caste in the same wav provide 
priests for the Gonds ; and in the United Provinces 
the I'atarl branch' of the Majhwars, who perhaps 
take tlieir name from the pat, or sacred plateau, 
which gives a deity to the Kurs, Kurkfls, or 
Mu&sis, act as priests of the whole tribe, and take, 
like the Hindu mahdbrdhman, the clothes and other 
goods of the dead man, by wearing or using which 
they are supposed to pass them on to the next 
world for his comfort. Hence they are held in 
such contempt that their parishioners will neither 
eat with them nor drink water from their hands 
(Crooke, Tribes and Castes, iv. 153 fif.). 

57. TTie menial priesthood in the Plains. — 
Among the menial tribes and castes of the Plains 
the worship of the village-gods is performed by 

iriests drawn from the very lowest ranks, Bhangi, 
JXisfidh, Mali, or barber ; while the semi-Hinduized 
tribes of the Kaimur range generally employ a 
Chero or Bhuiyar. Nor are their services confined 
to members o"f the tribes which generally employ 
them. Women even of hi^h caste use their services 
in worshipping those local gods, whom the innate 
conservatism of their sex inclines them to pro- 
pitiate side by side with the higher Hindu divini- 
ties. In time of stress, when famine, disease, or 
other trouble besets the village, all classes of the 
community employ them to perform the blood 
sacrilices and rude ceremonies of propitiation 
which they themselves do not understand or are 
unwilling to perform. 

58. Promotion of Dravidian gods into Hindu- 
ism. — Writing of Greek religion, Campbell (iJe- 
ligion in Gr. Lit., 1898, p. 46) remarks that the re- 
action of primeval local ceremonies upon the Aryan 
rclijrious deposit is one of the many causes of the 
infinite variety in the popular cults of deities 
reverenced throughout Greece under the same 
name. 

* People at an early stage of culture,* he says, ' are too 
entirely steeped in the awe and reverence wliich has descended to 
them fiT»ra their forefathers to adopt heartily or ent:r*.i.i .^ system 
of worship coming from abroad. Tlie imitative facul..v may be 
active in grafting foreign features on native religion, but the 
inherent force of that relijfion will always prevail over such 
atljuncts, which to begin with are but imperfectly understood.* 
They remain, as he remarks elsewhere (p. 119), *as an under- 
growth when the tall trees of the forest were felled.' 

The survival of these deities among a race of 
higher knowlefige than that which originally wor- 
shipped them is further encouraged by the fact 
that they are to a large extent the impersonations 
of the awe and mystery of the forest, or the malign 
nianifei'tations of the primitive Mother-goddess. 
A new rare occupying an unknown land is natur- 
ally inclined to insist on the conciliation of those 
local jMjwers, which, if neclected, are likely to 
visit them with their disiSleasure. The Aryan 
form of Animism was not in ita nature different 



from that of the Dravidians, and hence the accept- 
ance of the local cults presented no difficulty. The 
spirit of Hinduism has always been catholic, and 
it has always been ready to give shelter to foreign 
beliefs, provided it was i)ermitted to assimilate 
them in its own fashion. 

'The homely Jungle hero,' says Lyall (.Atiatie Studies^, i. 60), 
' comes eventually to get brevet rank among regular divinitie», 
whenever his tribe Is promoted into Hinduism. The upper 
class of Brahmans are prone to deny the existence of this pro- 
cess, and to profess that the proscl) tizing which goes on should 
be understood as involuntary on their part, and merely superj 
flcial ; they would be willing to keep their Olympus classic and 
above the heads of their low-bom intruders. But the local 
Brahman has to live, and is not troubled by any such fine 
scruples, so he initiates the rude Gopd and Mina (non-Aryans 
of the Jungle) as fast as they come to him for spiritual advioe, 
sets them up with a few decent caste prejudices, and gives to 
their rough unnniahcd superstitions some Br&hmanic shape 
and varnLih. This is vexatious to the refined Vedantiat of the 
towns, but the same thing goes on everywhere ; for a lofty and 
rePned orthodoxy will not attract ignorant outsiders, nor will it 
keep the mass of a people within a common outline of belief. 
So the high and mignty deities of Brahmanism would never 
draw upward the peasant and the woodlandcr if he were not 
invited to bring with him his fetish, his local hero or sage, his 
werewolf and his vampires, all to be dressed up and interpreted 
into orthodox emanations. In one part of Rajputana the Min&a 
(an aboriginal tribe) used to worship the pij?. When they took 
a turn towards Islam, they changed their pig into a saint called 
Father Adam, and worshipped him as such ; when the Brahmans 
got a turn at them, the pig became identified as the famous 
Boar Avatar of Vishnu, whose name is Varaha." 
This account admirably explains the process by 
which these local gods are adopted into Hinduism. 
A few examples may be given of Dravidian gods 
promoted in this way. The cases of Bhairon, 
Gan^am, and Hanuman have been already referred 
to (§ 29 »'.). Tod (i. 292 n.) describes how the primi- 
tive goddess of the Bhils, who under Hindu guid- 
ance was re-named LaksmI, goddess of prosperity, 
gained the title of Sitala Mata, the smallpox 
goddess, whom the women of the tribe invoke in 
times of danger. Macpherson tells how, when the 
Hindus occupied the Kandh country, they took 
over the local goddess, Kandhini, and, joining in 
the aboriginal worship at her shrine, ' her worship 
becomes practically confused with that of Durgft, 
but it is still discharged with regularity and pomp 
by this joint ministry' {Calcutta Rev. v. 58). 

The adoption by the Hindus of these aboriginal 
gods is often masked by a legend which tells that 
an image was accidentally found, and the agency 
by which it is said to have been recovered is often 
that of a member of one of the non- Aryan tribes. 
This tale is told of the famous image of Jagannath, 
which is said to have been recovered by one of the 
alioriginal tribe of Savaras. Ball (580) describes how 
a Kandh found an image said to resemble that of a 
cat, which is now recognized as that of Narasinha, 
the 'man-lion' incarnation of Visnu. Often the 
image or lihgam is said to have been discovered as 
the result of a dream. One of the most famous 
lihgams in the Central Provinces was recovered in 
this way, and the same tale is told of an image of 
Krsna in western India, of the great lihgam at 
Me'war, and quite recently of an image thrown up 
on the seashore near Bombay (BG v. 81 ; Tod, i. 
242 ; NINQ i. 175). The same inference may 
perhaps be drawn from the fact that the images 
most valued by modem Hindus are those known as 
svaiiambhu, . , 

' that is, existing spontaneously and of their own nature pervaded 
by the essence of deity. They are merely rough stones or rocks 
supposed to have descended direct from heaven, or to have 
appeared miraculously on the soil. They are the most sacred 
of all objects of adoration, and, when discovered, temples are 
built over them. The most usual idols of this kind arc stones 
supposed to represent the Lifiga of Siva ; and when shrines are 
builtround them, a Yoni (to reprwent the '"male orga^ta 
usually added ■ (Monier- Williams, Arahmamnmand Uxnduum*. 
89). , ,. J 

These Dravidian local gods seem jxj have stnijilied 
much of the coarser elements of modern Hindu- 
ism—the lavish blood sacrifices of animals, the 
occasional immolation of human beings, the use of 



DRAVIDIANS (North India) 



19 



I 



spirituous liquor in the service of the gods — all of 
which appear in the Sakta cult, the most degraded 
form of the current belief. The same was the case 
in Greece, where ' it must be remembered that the 
cruder and wilder sacrifices and legends . . . were 
strictly local ; that they were attached to these 
ancient temples, old altars, barbarous xoana, or 
wooden idols, and rough fetish stones in which 
Paosanias found the most ancient relics of Hellenic 
theology' (Lang, Myth, Eitual, and Jieligion, i. 
252 f.). 

W. Dravidian feasts and festivals. — The Dra- 
vidian feasts may bo roughly divided into two 
classes : ( 1 ) those celebrated at tne chief agricultural 
seasons — ploughing, sowing, harvesting — the object 
of which IS to promote the fertility of the soil and 
the growth of the crops; (2) those intended as a 
means of purgation, the periodical expulsion of the 
malign spiritual powers which menace the com- 
munity. The line, however, between these two 
classes of festivals cannot be clearly dra\vn, and 
the ceremonies of one occasionally merge in those 
of the other. 

AVhen the hot weather has passed, with the first 
fall of rain the Santal performs at seed-time the 
Erok Sim feast, when he craves the blessing of the 
Mother-goddeas who presides over the crops, by 
making a sacrifice of chickens in her sacred grove. 
This is followed by the Hariar Sim, ' the feast of 
greenery,' when a sacrifice is again made to secure 
the favour of the gods (Bradley-Birt, Indian Up- 
land, 278 f . ). At the transplanting of the rice the 
Rain-god is again invoked ; and at the critical 
period later on, when the success of the crop 
depends upon abundant rain, the Ckkat-parab, or 
'umbrella feast,' is held. It is a form of rude 
mimetic magic. 

*A long lithe sal tree shorn of its branches supports the 
smallest of umbrellaB roughly made of gaudy tinsel, and to- 
gether, amidst the excited shouts of the celebrants, they are 
raised aloft until, standing perpendicularly, the sal trunli is 
fixed firmly in the ground. As it slowly settles into place, 
the people, gathering up handfuls of dust and earth, pelt the 
umbrella with loud cries and much laughter, dancing round it 
the while as round a maypole, while the men turn somersaults 
and perform wonders of athletics and acrobatic sltill. Copious 
drinking of rice beer brings the feast to a close ' (ib. 280 f.]. 

Finally, when the rice is in ear and the season 
of harvest approaches, the Janthar feast, or oiler- 
ing of first-fruits, is performed. Tiny sheaves of 
the half-ripe com are placed in the sacred grove 
upon the sacrificial stone, and prayers are made to 
tne gods that they will permit the crop to be safely 
reai)ed and garnered. The sacrifice of a pig, the 
flesh of which is cooked and eaten in the grove, is 
an essential part of this feast (ib. 281). The corn, 
as Frazer suggests, is eaten sacramentally ' as the 
body of the com-spirif (GB^ ii. 318 ft.). This 
round of Santal feasts may be taken as specimens 
of those performed by tlie Northern Dravidian 
tribes, further accounts being reserved for the 
articles on Mundas, Oraons, and others. 

An example of the second class of festivals — 
the purgation feasts — is to be found in the Mdgh- 
parab or Desaulihonga of the Mundas. A sacrifice 
IS made to the village-protecting deity, Desaull. 

* At this period an evil spirit is supposed to infest the locality ; 
and, to_ get rid of it, the men, women, and children go in 



procession round and through every part of the village, with 
sticks in their hands as if beating for game, singing a wild 
chant and vociferating violently till they feel ascured that the 



bad spirit must have fled ; and they make noise enough to 
frighten a legion' (Dalton, 280f., 196f.). 

We find the same ctistom amongst the menial 
castes of the Plains, among whom, after the Divali, 
or feast of lights, the hou.semother takes a sieve 
and a broom, and beats them in every corner of the 
liouse, exclaiming, ' God abide and Poverty depart ! ' 
These feasts have Ijeen exhaustively discussed by 
Frazer {G'B a iii. 39 (r.). 

The lights used at the Divali feast are probably 
intendea as a means of expelling evil spirits. 



Among the Pavras, an aboriginal tribe of Khandesh, 
at this feast four or five stones are brought from a 
neighbouring river-bed and placed outside the 
houses but within the village lands. They are 
painted red, liquor is sprinkled on the ground and 
freely drunk, and goats and fowls are sacrificed. 
Dancing begins at nightfall, and two men, holding 
lighted torches, go from house to house followed 
by the villagers. Every housewife comes out with 
a lighted lamp in her hands, waves it before them, 
marks their foreheads with the lamp oil, and gives 
beer. In this way every house in the village is 
purified (BG xii. 100). Further south it resolves 
itself into a means of purifying the cattle. After 
feasting, a figure of Balindra, god of cattle, is 
made and hung up in the cowshed, with rice and 
coco-nuts tied round its neck. The cattle are 
decorated with splashes of colour and garlands. 
The fiercest bull and the swiftest heifer in the herd 
are covered with flowers, and driven through the 
village, followed by a crowd of shouting youths. 
The lad who can snatch a garland from the bull or 
heifer as it rushes along is loudly applauded, and 
is considered a fit matcli for the best girl in the 
neighbourhood (ib. xv. pt. i. 207). 

60. The Holi. — The most interesting of these 
Dravidian festivals in North India is that of the 
Holi, known further south as the Shimga. The 
chief part of the rite is the burning of the Holi 
fire, the primary intention of which is apparently 
by a sort of sympathetic magic to ensure a due 
supply of sunsbine for the crops (Frazer, GB^ iii. 
313 ft'. ). But there are other incidents which sug- 
gest that the rite in its present form is complex, and 
that more than one train of thought has led to its 
observance. Returning to that primitive tribe, the 
Pavras of Khandesh, we find that a pit is dug, and 
a wooden stake thrust into it, and lighted at night. 
Every one brings a piece of bread, some rice, and 
a cock, portions of which are thrown into the fire 
and the rest consumed on the spot. Drinking and 
dancing go on till dawn (BG xii. 100). In Kumaun 
each clan erects a tree covered with rags which are 
begged by the young men from the people of the 
tribe. Near the tree a fire is kindled and the tree 
is burned. While it is being burned there is a 
contest between the clans, each trying to carry off 
a shred of cloth from the tree of another clan. 
When the tree is consumed the people leap over 
the ashes, believing that in this way they get rid 
of itch and other diseases. The analogy with the 
custom of hanging rags on trees is here obvious (§12). 
In Gwalior, again, two phallic figures are con- 
structed. One, made of wood, is preserved from 
year to year ; the other, of bricks, after the fire is 
lighted 13 broken to pieces with blows of shoes and 
bludgeons. The wooden figure is placed beside 
the wedding conch as a fertility charm (NINQ iii. 
92 f . ). A similar rite is the Khatarhuva of Kumaun, 
when a fire of dry grass and weeds is burned round 
a pole. Obscene songs are sung, and the purport 
of one is that the cattle are now safe from demons 
(ib. iii. 135). Among the Dravidian Biyars, again, 
a stake of the sacred cotton tree is driven into the 
ground, and a time is fixed for the Burning of the 
Old Year. The fire is lit by the village baiga, and 
the people after parching ears of barley at it eat 
them. They sprinkle tlie ashes about, and with 
them mark their foreheads (Crooke, Tribes and 
Castes, ii. 137). An important part of these rites 
is the leaping over the fire and the driving of the 
cattle through it, which Frazer (GB'^ iii. 312) 
thinks 'may be intended, on the one hand, to 
secure for man and beast a share of the vital 
energy of the sun, and, on the other hand, to purge 
them of all evil influences; for to the primitive 
mind fire is the most powerful of all purificatory 
agents.' Further than this, we find that, in the 



so 



DBAVIDIANS (North India) 



oeremony as jierfornied in the Matliura district of 
the United Provinces, the iniportiint i>ortion of the 
rite is tliat the village priest, apijarently as a 
representative of the community, should walk 
through the fire not in a perfunctory way, but in 
a manner whicli seems to imply that ho was 
expected actually to expose himself to the flames. 
A similar rite practised by the king of Tyre seems 
to represent tiie commutation of an actual lire 
sacrifice (Frazer, Adonis, Attis, Osiris, 38 ; Crooke, 
PJi ii. 317). The Holt, then, appears to be a 
complex rite, the chief intention being to promote 
fertility and disjjel evil influences. 

6i. The Saturnalia. — It will have been noticed 
that in connexion witli festivals of this kind there 
is a period of licence, which may be compai'ed to 
that of the Koman Saturnalia. The Mdgh-parab, 
or spring feast of the Mundas, is held in January, 
* when the granaries are full of grain, and the people, to use 
their own expression, full of devilry. They have a strange 
notion that at this jtoriod men and women are so overcharged 
with vicious propensities that it is absolutely necessary for tlie 
safety of tlie person to let off steam by allowing for a time 
full vent to the passions. The festival, therefore, becomes a 
satum&le, during which servants forget their duty to their 
masters, children their reverence for parents, men their respect 
for women, and women all notions of modesty, delicacy, and 
gentleness ; they become raging bacchantes ' (Daltou, 19«). 

In the same way the rites of the Holi festival 
are accompanied by indecency of word and gesture; 
the singing of ribald songs, and the flinging of filth 
or coloured water on passers-by. Such orgies are 
commonly associated with tlie rites of the spring 
festival or the garnering of the crops (Frazer, GB'^ 
iii. 118f., 138). It seems more probable that these 
acts of indecency are intended as a piece of 
sympathetic magic to induce fertility, than, as 
Crawley (Mystic Hose, 1902, p. 278 ff'.) suggests, a 
means of purification and breaking with the past 
by a complete inversion of the normal, decent 
course of ordinary life. 

62. Hunting-festivals.— The last group of tlie 
pravidian festivals which can be considered here 
is that of the general hunt. In Chota Nagpur the 
Hos, as well as most of the other non-Aryan tribes 
of the district, have a great national hunting- 
festival in May. Immense crowds assemble, beat 
the forests, and kill enormous quantities of game 
(Bradley-Birt, Chota Nagpore, 107 ff.). Among 
the Kajputs this is represented by the annual 
spring nte of the Ahairia, when the boar, the 
enemy of the Mother-goddess, Gauri, is slain (Tod, 
i. 598 f . ). Frazer connects this slaying of the boar 
with the killing of the corn-spirit (G£» ii. 284). 
This general hunting - festival, again, seems to 
develop into the Munda rite, when all the girls of 
the village arm themselves and make a descent 
upon a neighbouring village, whence they carry off 
aU the live stock, in the shape of fowls, kids, pigs, 
and lambs, which they can secure, the village thus 
raided retaliating by a similar raid upon another ; 
and m the Plai/is, in BUiar, at the Jur Sital feast 
in honour of Sitala, the smallpox goddess, the 
people in the forenoon cover themselves with mud, 
whicli they shower on every one they meet, and in 
the afternoon go out with clubs and hunt hares, 
jackals, and any other animal they can find in the 
village (AT/iVg iii. 98; Grierson, Bihar Peasant 
Ltfe, 401). The import of these rites is obscure 
They may be connected with the toteinistic 
slaughter of sacred animals, as in the case of 
Hunting the Wren ; or they may be purificatory 
or cathartic {FL xi. 250 ff. , xvii. 270 ir. ). 

63. The current religious beliefs of the peasant. 
—It remains to consider the general views of the 
■o-called Dravidian jicasant of the I'lain.s on the 
■abjecU of religion and morality. This question 
W«« specially considered at the last Census, and 
much useful information has been collected 

iteginning with the Panjab, Wilson, a careful 



observer (Sir»a Settlement Rep., 1883, p. 133), holds 
that the ordinary Hindu ])ea.sant of the Panjab 

* has practically no belief in the transmigration of souls, but faM 
a vague idea that there is a future life, in whicli those who are 
good in this world will lie haiipy in a heaven, while those who 
are bad will be wretched in a hell. His devotional offerings to 
demons, sainU, and godlings are meant rather to avert temporal 
evils or to secure temporal blessings than to improve his 
tirospcots in the world to come. He has an idea tliat sin will 
bring evil on himself and his fellows in this life as well as after 
death. His instincts as to good and evil arc much tlio same as 
the ordinary Kuro|>ean moral distinctions, only they do not 
talce so wide a range ; instead of extending to the whole humao 
race, or to the whole nation or sect, they extend only to his 
own tribe, or village, or family. He thinks it wrong to tell a lie 
unless perhaps to benefit a relative or friend ; he thinks it 
wicked to injure a man unless he has been injured by him, or 
to cheat another unless he thinks that that other would cheat 
him if he got a chance ; or to take a bribe without giving the 
promised consideration for it.' He has a vague idea that it is 
good for him to meditate on the deity ; and, to show that he has 
not forgotten him, he mutters the name of Itama, or of some 
other Hindu god, when he rises in the morning, and, 'if he is 
piously inclined, at all times also, in season and out of seASon. 
Notwithstanding all the numerous saints and <leities whom he 
endeavours to propitiate, he has a vague belief that above all 
there is one Supreme God whom he calls Narayan [Narayaoa] 
or Parmeshar [Parame^vara], who knows all things and by 
whom all things were made, and who will reward the good and 
punish the baa both in this life and in the life to come.' 

Fagan, writing of the neighbouring district of 
Hissar, remarks (NINQ, iii. 129) that the peasant 
is in no sense an orthodox Hindu. He feeds and 
venerates, though he does not respect, the Brahman ; 
and he acknowledges'the^existence and power of the 
three great Hindu gods, Siva, Vi§nu, Kr?ria. Of the 
more strictly orthodox, but inferior gods, perhaps 
Suraj Narayan, the Sun-god, is the one most 
commonly worshipped. His worship consists in 
bathing at the tank adjoining one of the Hindu 
temples, obeisance, and pouring water over the 
lihgam of Siva. He worships Suraj Narayan on 
Sundays ; and the more pious fast on that day in his 
honour, eating only one meal, and abstaining from 
the use of salt. But these gods are too great for 
everyday use. 'He lives, as it were, in an at- 
mosphere charged with the spirits of dejjarted 
saints, heroes, demons, and others who are in a 
position to, and as a matter of fact do, exercise a 
benevolent or malevolent influence in the affairs of 
mankind, and it is from them that he selects those 
who are to be the recipients of his every-day 
devotion. It is not so much perhaps the case that 
he worships them with fixed ceremonies as he does 
Siva or Suraj Narayan; but they are always 
consciously almost present to him as the beings 
who have the most immediate connexion with his 
destinies.' In this class Bhumiya or Khetrpal, the 
Earth-god, and Sitala, the goddess of sniallixjx, are 
most commonly worshipped. Fire he adores by 
dropping butter into it ; he worships the Pipal, or 
sacred fig-tree, at dawn, after bathing, by pouring 
water at its root and making obeisance. 

Burn (i. 73 ff.) corroborates the existence in the 
United Provinces of belief in a Supreme God, called 
Bhagvan, Param&svara, Isvara, or Narftyana. 

* It must not be forgotten, howe\'er, tliat, to the Hindu, religion 
includes matters which to other iieople are merely social 
concerns ; and, while be has no idea of congregational worship, 
such as is usual for instance in Christianity or Islam, ritual 
enters into his daily life probably to a greater extent than into 
that of a Christian or Musalman.' 

A cultivator in Bundelkhand thus described his 
religion to Luard (i. 64) : ' All I know about religion 
is that every day I call Kam morning and night. 
All my time is taken up in work. I do not do 
things which would ontcaste me, associate with 
the low, or eat forbidden things. This is all my 
religion.' In other words, religion amounts to 
observance of the laws of caste. 

LiTBRATBRK. — B. C. Allen, Crnsiu lieport Assam, 1901; 
Ardasheer Dinshawji Chinoy, Centui lieport Berar, 1901 ; 
E. T. Atkinson, Himalayan CazcUetr, 188&-« ; V. Ball, Jungle 
Life in India, 18S0 ; A. D. Bannerman, Census Hejtort Rajvu- 
tana, 1901 ; F. B. Bradley-Birt, The Story of an Indian Up. 
land, 1905, Chota yaapore, a littU-known Province of the Empire, 
1903; R. C. Bramley, Ctnmu lieport Ajmer-iterwara, 1901; 



DRAVIDIANS (South India) 



21 



F. H. Buchanan, in Eastern India, ed. M. Martin, 1S38; R. 
Bum, Census Report North-western Provinces and Otidh, 1901 ; 
R. Caldwell, A comparatiit Dravidian Grammar', 1875; 
J. A, Campbell, PersoiuU Narrative of thirteen Years' Service 
ataong the Wild Tribes o/ Kondistan, 1864 ; J. M. Campbell, 
Notes on the Spirit Basis o/ Beliff and Custom, 1886; W. 
Crooke, Tribes,and Castes of the North-western Provinces and 
Oudh, 1896, PopfUar Religion and Folk-lore of Northern India'', 
1896 ; J. A. Dalai, Cenmm Report Baroda, 1901 ; E. T. Dalton, 
Descriptive Eth^wlogy of Bewial, 1872 ; A. K. Forbes, Ras 
Mold, or Hindoo A nnals of the Province ofGoozerat in W. India, 
1878 ; J. Forsyth, Highlands of Central India, new ed. 1SS9 ; 
E. A. Gait, Census Report Assam, 1891, do. Bengal, 1901 ; 
Gazetteers of Bombay, Berar, Central Provinces, Rajmitana ; 

G. A. Grierson, Bihar Peasant Life, 1885 ; F. S. Growse, 
Mathura, a district Memoir', 1883 ; S. Hislop, Papers relating 
to the Aboriginal Tribes of the Central Provinces, 1866; Sir 
W. W. Hunter, The Annals of Rural Bengal, 1868; Sir 
D. C. J. Ibbetson, Punjab Etimayraphy, 1883; Col. W. 
ICirkpatrick, Account of Nepal, 1811 ; S. Knowles, The Gospel 
in Gonda, 1889 ; Capt. E. C. Luard, Central India CeTUUS 
Report, 1901 ; Sir A. C. Lyall, Asiatic Studies'', 1907 ; Sir J. 
Malcolm, Memoir of Central India, 1824; NINQ, 1891-6; 
H. A. Oldfield, Sketches from Nepal, 1880 ; G. Oppert, The 
original Inhabitants of Bharatacarsha or I-ndia, 1S^3 ; PNQ, 
1883-7; H. H. Risley, Tribes and Castes of Bengal, 1891; 
H. H. Risley and E. A. Gait, Census Report India, 1901 ; 
H. A. Rose, Censwi Report Panjab, 1901, Glossary of the 
Tribes and Castes of the Punjab and N. W, Frontier Province, 
vol. ii. (1911 ; all published) ; R. V. Russell, Census Report 
Central Provinces, 1901 ; M. A. Sherring:, Hindu 'Tribes 
and Castes, 1872-81 ; W. H. Sleeman, Rambles and Beeol- 
lections of an Indian Oficial, ed. V. A. Smith, 1893 ; J. 
Tod, Annals and Antiquities of Rajastfian or the Central 
and Western Rajpoot States of India, Calcutta reprint, 1884 ; 
L. A. Waddell, Amon^ the Himalayas, 1899 ; W. Ward, A 
View of the History, Literature, and Religion of the Hindoos^, 
1815 ; Sir M. Monier-Williams, Brahmanism and Hinduism*, 
1891 ; J. Wise, Notes on the Races, Castes, and Trades of 
Btutem Bengal, 1883. W. CrOOKE. 

DRAVIDIANS (South India).— i. Introductory. 

— The Southern Uravidians, numhering about 57 
millions of people, occupy the portion of India 
that is bordered on the north by a line which, 
starting about 100 miles south of Goa, runs along 
the Western Ghats to Kolhapur and Hyderabad, 
then passes south of Berar to the Bay of Bengal 
on the east. The term ' Dravidian,' irrespective of 
boundary, is generally used in the sense applied to 
it by Kumarila Bhatta in the 8th cent, (about 
A.D. 725 [Iloernle, Hisi. of India, 1905, p. 76]) to 
include those southern peoples who then spoke 
languages he termed ' Andbra Dravida,' or ' Telupu 
Tamil, among which are now included, as chief 
languages, Telngu, Tamil, Kanarese, Malayalam, 
and Tulu. Many attempts have been made to 
connect this group with other outside families of 
languages, such as Scythian, Ural-Altaic, and 
Au.stralian ; but, so far as an^ conclusive evidence 
is concerned, ' the attempt is now generally re- 
garded as a failure ' (Linguistic Survey of India, 
vol. iv. p. 282). The same conclusion seems to 
have been arrived at with regard to efforts made 
to connect the Southern Dravidians with other 
known races of the world, or even with those of 
North India. Recent head-measurement« in South 
India have led Tliurston (Castes and Tribes of 
Southern India, vol. i. p. xli) to the conclu.sion that 
'whatever may have been the influence which has l)rou^ht 
about the existing Bub-brachycephaho or niesaticephalic type 
in the northern areas, this influence has not extended south- 
ward into the Tamil and Malayalam countries, where Dravidian 
man remains dolicho- or sub-dolichocephalic' 
It follows that there is no reliable evidence 
whether the Southern Dravidians are autochthones, 
or whether in some primitive time they reached 
their present habitats from some outside country. 
In South India they were preserved, almost down 
to historic times, from the outside social and 
ethnical influences of Aryan, Scythian, or Mon- 
goloid invaders, which in the north submerged 
the proto-Dravidian races, who spoke some proto- 
Dravidian Language. The barrier of the Vindhya 
range of mountains warded off for long the pres- 
•nre of these raore vigorous races and of their more 
advanced civilization. The Southern Dravidians 
have, therefore, preserved their own indigenous 



language, diversified in course of time into distinct 
groups of separate languages. In these languages 
— Telugu, Kanarese, Malayalam, and especially 
Tamil — a literature was developed in a peculiar 
cla.ssical form, so archaic and different from the 
spoken language of today that even an educated 
Southern Indian would now be unable to read or 
understand this early literature, unless he made it 
a special study. It enshrines somewhat of the 
earljr history of the social organizations and 
religious conceptions of the pre- Aryan period. 

To the east and west of the Vindhyas lay the 
low coastlands, through which, in due course, 
Aryan and other newcomers penetrated, settled 
in the richer river-valleys, and thence advanced 
through the more accessible passes to the central 
table-land. These incursions were comparatively 
late in the lifetime of Dravidian peoples. It is not 
until the 4th cent. B.C. that mention is made in 
Aryan literature of the Southern Dravidians. The 
grammarian Panini in the 5th cent. B.C. merely 
notes the existence of the Andhras, who ruled in 
the Telugu country in the north-east of Dravidian 
lands, and who, from the account of Megasthenes, 
held an extensive sway south of the Maurya 
empire as early as 300 B.C. Katyayana, the com- 
mentator of rilnini, in the 4th cent. B.C., also 
mentions the ancient Dravidian Pandya and Chola 
kingdoms, which had their capitals at Mudur and 
Uraiyur («r being Dravidian for 'village' or 
' town '). The Edicts of Asoka in the 3rd cent. 
B.C. show that the south was then well known, as 
were the kingdoms mentioned above, and that of 
the Cheras on the east. Asoka records in these 
Edicts that he had conquered the Kalihgas as far 
south as the Kistna River, and killed 100,000 of 
the inhabitants — which he regretted because 'in 
such a country dwell Brahmans and ascetics, men 
of different sects' (V. A. iim\t\i, ASoka, Oxf. 1901, 
p. 16). The publication of these Edicts as far south 
as Mysore ' presupposes a widely diffused knowledge 
of the art of writing' (V. A. Smith, Early Hist, of 
Indin', do. 1908, p. 154). Inter-communication had 
so increa.sed by the time of Mahendra, a relative of 
Asoka, that he is said to have implanted Buddhism 
as far south as Ceylon (see Ceylon Buddhism). 

In the history of religious life — so far as it is of per- 
manent interest — of the Southern Dravidians, it is 
almost impossible to discriminate exactly between 
what was the result of the influence of Aryan con- 
ceptions and what was of purely indigenous origin. 
Thought in India loves to work through analogies, 
and an analogy may be found in the Aryan influ- 
ence in the south on race and on religion, so far as 
it affected the higher classes and their literature. 

The aboriginal Dravidian was of short stature, 
of dark skin, with a short broad nose. The Aryan 
— at least the early Aryan ethnically uninflu- 
enced by the aborigmal races, of whom the pure 
Brahman is the best type in India to-day — was of 
fair complexion and had typical Aryan features. 
In South India of to-day 

•between a Brahman of high culture, with fair complexion and 
long narrow nose, on the one hand, and a less highly civilized 
Brahman, on the other, there is a vast difference, which can 
only be reasonably explained on tlic assumption of racial admix- 
ture ; and it is no insult to the higher members of the Brahman 
community to trace, in their more lowly brethren, the result 
of crossing with a dark-skinned and broad-nosed race oJ short 
stature ' (Thurston, op. cit. vol. i. p. liv). 

This racial mixture of Dravidian and Aryan can 
be traced all over the south, more marked as one 
goes northward, where the Aryan influence was 
more predominant. The same mixture of Aryan 
and Dravidian can be traced in the literature of 
the religious life of the people, so far as it is a 
record of their best thought. There is through- 
out it an underlying Dravidian substratum, inter- 
woven and covered over with, sometimes t^ost 



22 



DBA VIDIANS (South India) 



concealed by, accretions from Aryan cnltnre. 
Just as Dravidiaii languages, from their contact 
with Aryan languages, were enlarged with a new 
vocabulary and their literature enriched by new 
moiles of expression, so, in a similar manner, 
Dravidian primitive relijjious conceptions M-ere 
relined from dark superstitions and Animism, until 
they linally reached a living faith' in the saving 
grace of a Supreme Deity. The primitive Dravidian 
substratum lias been described as a form of sha- 
manism (see preced. art. §§ 2, 3). This phase of 
thought still exists in South India among the 
wilder tribes and simpler rural folk, who have 
their own peculiar ecstatic frenzied dances, amid 
which the votaries, drugged and foaming at the 
mouth, are held to be in communion with some 
demon or goddess, and to become soothsayers of the 
deity thirsting for unholy rites and blood sacrifice. 
Out of some such phase of thought emerges the 
pre-historic primitive Dravidian religion known as 
some form of Saivism, or worship of Siva. The 
attributes and rites of this deity were gradually 
brought into conformity, by a process of com- 
promise, with those of some Aryan deity or deities. 
This was due to the necessity under which an invad- 
ing race lie of compromising with the people amid 
whom they make their new homes. There are 
evidences which tend to show that the Aryans 
adopted somewhat of the pronunciation of 
Dravidian languages (Linguistic Survey, vol. iv. 
p. 279). Dravidian languages, on the other hand, 
north and south, enlarged the vocabulary of the 
Aryan languages and influenced their iiiilexions. 
In a similar manner Dravidian religious con- 
ceptions reacted on Aryan modes of thought. 

The attributes of the Dravidian deity Siva were 
fonnd to be most in conformity with those of the 
Vedic god Budra, the wielder of the thunderbolt 
and father of the Storm-gods. The conception 
thus grew of a half-Dravidian half- Aryan deity — 
Kudra-Siva, the Destroyer of the Universe — who 
became the Supreme Deity, Siva, of the great mass 
of the Dravidian people. The term Hva is even 
used in the Vedas as = ' auspicious ' — an epithet of 
the god Rudra. The word Hva is, however, the 
Dravidian word for ' red,' and the word rudra in 
the Rig Veda 'often seems to mean red.' There- 
fore, at a very early period, 'it seems probable 
that the conception of the god Rudra had a tinge 
of Dravidian ideas ' {Linguistic Survey, iv. 279). 

This ' tin^e of Dravidian ' runs through all 
Dravidian literature of post-Aryan periods in 
which the religious ideals of the people were 
expressed, giving it a distinctive and often per- 
plexing individuality of its own. Aryan influences 
had, no doubt, a predominating ett'ect alike on 
the literature, the religious conceptions, and the 
philosophic modes of reasoning of the Dravidian. 
Nevertheless, Dravidian genius, roused by contact 
with an advanced civilization, developed a dis- 
tinctive religious literature worthy not only to 
stand side by side with the best of the literature 
of India, but also to take a place in history as 
a contribution to the records of the ettbrts and 
aspirations of mankind towards the truth. 

jjoVJ'lf"*"' i"' "" influence of early Christian beliefs (see 
ERE ii. M8S.) on later Dravidian religious conceptions belongs 
more to the retcion of fecIinR than to that of absolute proof. This 
feeling seems to have Impressed itself most strongly on Euro- 
pean scbolara, who may be said, by their intimate acquaintance 
with Indian laagnagee and literature, to be almost saturated 
with the Bpirit and thought of India (see Grierson, ' Modern 
Hinduism and its Debt to the Nestorians,' in J HAS, April 
1807 ; Pope, Introd. to Tim Yoeha kami). The theory of this 

*_J^?"'. •? '"' P"" Dravidian word for ' faith.' The Sin-. 
word bkakti is used (=Tamil paUi) in TamU literature as earlv 
■I the 8tta or 9th centuri-. 

•Sanskrit forms of Tamil words are used throughout as 
belnK more generally known. JVni— the Tamil method of 
pronouncing the 8kr. <rt, ' blesMd'— Is reUiued, as it is of com- 
own oocurrenc*. 



influence u not further touched on tor want of deflnite evidence 
or proof : it must suffice to say that, throughout Tamil liters, 
ture, from the 8th or 0th century, there arc to be found ideas 
and sometimes totally unexpected fonns of expression sugKes- 
tive of sonic Christian influences on tile poetry of the period. 

2. Early history of Dravidian religion.— Tra- 
<lition ascribes the earliest Aryan intluences on 
Dravidian religious literature to the Jains, whose 
writings were usually in Sanskrit, and were trans- 
lated into the vernaculars for the use of the com- 
mon people. The Kural, a collection of couplets, 
in the Vemba metre, on ethical subjects, is especi- 
ally claimed by the Jains as their contribution to 
the earliest eflbrts to provide the Dravidian culti- 
vators of the soil with moral teachings. This 
claim seems improbable ; the work is more usually 
ascribed to a weaver named Tiru Valluvar, who 
lived at St. Thora6, near Madras. It is said to 
have been accepted by the 3rd Sahgha, or Tamil 
Academy, at Madura, through miraculous inter- 
vention of the god Siva to establish the revealed 
character of its stanzas. Divided into three books, 
on Virtue, Wealth, and Enjoyment, it is still con- 
sidered by Tamil-speaking people as a masterpiece 
of literary structure and of profundity of thought, 
and has received similar praise from many Euro- 
pean scholars. It has been ascribed to the 2nd or 
3rd cent. (Bamett, Catalogtie, p. Ill), but its style 
is simple — far more so than works ascribed to a 
much later period. 

The same famed Tamil Academy is also tra- 
ditionally held to have been responsible for the 
gathering together, at the court of the king of 
Madura, of 800 Jain ascetics, who issued a collec- 
tion of 400 quatrains kno^vn as the Naladiyar, to 
serve as a Tamil Veda, or Book of Wisdom, for the 
daily use of the people. These quatrains are said 
to have been composed 4000 years ago, but, as a 
matter of fact, date back, at the furthest period 
to which they can be assigned, to the 2nd or 3rd 
cent. A.D. In the outpourings of the soul — tossed 
from birth to re-birth through the evil of deeds — 
over the weariness of life and the joy of release 
from ceaseless transmigrations, there is no evidence 
of any distinctive school of belief, either Jain, 
Buddhist, or Saiva, and no mention of a deity. 
One quatrain alone (243) gives a faint clue to the 
existence of a diflerence between northern and 
southern faiths, by stating that 

* many of the southern people have entered heaven {svargam), 
while many of the northern iiave lived in vain ; the future of 
every one depends on his own deeds.' 
In these early centuries Jainism and Buddhism 
flourished throughout SouUi India side by side 
with the rising claims of Saivism to gather the 
southern people into one common national faith, 
founded on the belief in a personal deity able to 
enter into communion with his votaries. From 
the beginning of the 1st cent. (A.D. 23) to the 
beginning of the 3rd (A.D. 218), the Buddhist faith 
flourished vigorously, especially in the _Telugu 
country. Here, under the rule of the Andhra- 
Bhrtyas, the famed Buddhist tope at Amaravati, 
near the Kistna River, was built. This great 
Buddhist memorial is now in ruins, and the sur- 
rounding country desolate ; but in the neighbour- 
ing hills are cut out rock-hewn caves, once the 
abodes of ascetic monks, who must have wandered 
far and wide, inculcating the faith of their founder 
and begging alms. 

The Jainist negation of the belief in a soul and 
Buddhist nescience as to the existence of a per- 
sonal Deity were doomed to failure, removed as 
these doctrines were in the south from the sources 
of their birth in far-away Kapilavastu, 200 miles 
north of Benares. The groat revolt of the Dravid- 
ian races against both Jainism and Buddhism arose 
in the 5th and 6th centuries, and continued until 
the indigenous deity 6iva was left supreme. The 
land of the Dravidians became henceforth the land 



DRAVIDIANS (South India) 



of a belief in a First Cause, who by His grace 
created a cosmos wherein souls might work out tlie 
fatality of karma, or deeds, and so gain release 
from the haunting terrors of endless births and 
re-births, the uncertainties of awards in heavens 
or terrors in hells. 

An account of South India, seemingly authentic, 
at this period is given by Hiuen Tsiang, a Chinese 
pilgrim, who travelled all over India to trace the 
footsteps of Buddha and to learn the condition of 
the Buddhist faith. It is recorded that this visit 
took place in a.d. 640, in the reign of the Western 
Chalukyan monarch, Pulikesin II. (A.D. 608 to 
642), who ruled at Vatapi, and is said to have 
conquered the Southern Pallava monarch, Nara- 
siinna Varma, who ruled (A.D. 625 to 645) at 
KanchI (Conjeeveram). The Chinese pilgrim 
describes KaiichI as a city five miles round, con- 
taining many Jains, 10,000 Buddhist monks, and 
80 Brahmau temples. At Malakuta (country south 
of the Cauvery) he records that the people did not 
care for learning, but were given to commercial 
gain. He says that the country possessed many 
ruins of old monasteries, but that only the walls 
were preserved. There were many hundred Deva 
temples, and a multitude of heretics, mostly Jains. 
He also describes one Buddhist stupa, or burial- 
mound, ' in the Chola country, and another in the 
Dravida or Pandya kingdoms, as ascribed to 
Asoka' (V. A. Smith, Aiokct, p. 47). From this 
it is clear that the coming struggle was to be 
between the advancing power of Saivism as op- 
posed to the Jain belief and the fading influence 
of Buddhism. There is further internal evidence 
in the great classical Tamil romances — the Mani- 
mekhalai, and Sillapp'adhikaram — of the 2nd 
oent. that at that period Buddhists, Jains, and 
Saivas lived in harmony, whereas the third great 
Tamil classic — the Jivaga Chintdniani of the 10th 
cent.,— gives evidence of the hostility of both Jains 
and Saivas to the Buddhist faith. 

3- Sacred hymns of the ^aivas. — The revival 
of the Dravidian worship of Siva led to the collec- 
tion of all the early Saiva hymns, composed for 
singing in the temples to Siva during worsliip, into 
what is known as tne Tiru Murai, or Holy Sayings. 
The first three books of this collection contain 
the poems of the most renowned sage and saint of 
the Tamils, Tiru Juuna Sambandhar, of the middle 
of the 7th cent. A.D. (V. Venkayya, Tamil Anti- 

m. No. 3 [1909]), whose image is still worshipped 
vti temples of the south. The next three were 
the poems of Appar, or Tiru Navukk'arafju ; and the 
seventh — the fast — those of Snndarar, of the 8th 
and 9th centuries. The poems of this collection, 
or Devaram, are held to be Divine revelation, and 
are daily recited, in Tamil lands in the Saiva 
temples, by a special class of priests. To this 
collection are further added, as the 8th part of the 
Tiru Murai, the poems of Manikka Vachakar, 
known as the Tiru Vdchahim,^ or Holy Sayings, 
which date from A.D. 800 to 900 (J. Vinson, Sid- 
dhanta Dipika,'' Aug. 1908 ; V. Venkayya, Tamil 
Antiquary, No. 3, p. vi). A ninth collection, by 
nine minor poets, is known as the Tim Isaipd, one 
hymn of which relates to a temple built by lia- 
iendra Chola I. (A.D. 1012) (lA x.xxvi [1907] 288). 
The 10th is by a mystic, Tiru Mular ; and an 11th 
contains some poems by Nakklrar Devar of the 
5th or 6th cent. A.D. Tlie lastten poems of this 
11th collection are by Nambi Andar Nambi ; the 
last three form the basis of a legendary History of 
Saints, wliich i^ known as the Periya Puranam, 
composed by Sekkirar, under the patronage of 
Knlottufiga Chola II. (A.D. 1070-1118) (Sundaram 
Filial, M ilestoncs, p. 3 ; see Barnett, Catalogue, 
tat a nine-fold collection of the Tint Murai). 



1 Hereafter cited u T. V. 



> Hereafter cited aa S.D. 



The collection of early devotional literature, to- 
gether with the poems of fourteen later Santana 
teachers, are sometimes called the ' Sacred Sutras 
of the Saivas.' 

The 10th cent, is noted for the sacred Saiva 
poems of Pattanattu Pillai, while in the 16th or 
17tli cent, all the floating legends concerning the 
many manifestations of the energies of Siva were 
collected together as ' The Sacred Sports of Siva,' 
or Tiru Vilai ddal Puranam, by Paran Joti. The 
most popular and sweetest singer of Saiva niystio 
raptures was Tayumanavar, who wrote about A.D. 
1650. 

This period of revival of the adoration and wor- 
ship of Siva exhibits, as an outward expression of 
the inward devotion of the people to their Deity, 
the bestowal of an almost mcredible amount of 
labour and skill on the erection in A.D. 985 of the 
famed temple at Tanjore, tlie walls of which were 
covered with inscriptions telling of the gieat vic- 
tories of the Chola king, Kaja Raja Deva ( A. D. 985). 
In the time of the earlier CJiola king, Parantaka I. 
(A.D. 907), the temple to Siva at Chidambaram is 
recorded to have been covered with gold (,S'./. In- 
scriptiotis, vol. i. p. 112). 

The most revered of all these early poets was 
Tiru Jiiana Sambandhar, who is said 
' to have loolced upon tlie overthrow of the Jains and Buddhista 
as the one object of Ium life — of every one of his numerous hymns 
the tenth verse is uniformly devoted to their condemnation' 
(Sundaram Pillai, Milegtofnes, p. 79}. 

He is said to have converted the ruling Pandya 
monarch at Madura from Jainism back to the 
ancient faith in Siva, to which the monarch's wife 
and prime minister had adhered. The Periya 
Puranam records that not only did he convince 
the king of the truths of baivism, and defeat all 
the arguments brought forward in support of Jain 
doctrines, but that he afterwards took care that 
8000 Jains should be massacred — a massacre which 
is still commemorated at Madura. The second 
greatest of these early poets was Manikka Vachakar, 
the author of the T.V., who in the 9th cent. A.D. 
is recorded, in the Vdthav urar Purdnam, to have 
totally defeated the Buddliists, and to have finally 
established the Saiva faith in the Chola kin<,'doni. 
The king of Ceylon is said to have arrived with his 
surrounding Buddhist missionaries at the court of 
the Chola monarch, who vowed to exterminate 
them if Manjkka Vachakar could establish the 
truths of the Saiva faith in opposition to the argu- 
ments of the Buddhists. 

It is strange that at this early period one of the 
keenest philosophical arguments against the whole 
underlying basis of Buddhism and idealism was 
raised by the Tamil sage. The Buddhists, in their 
arguments before the Chola king, stated the cardi- 
nal doctrine of their belief that all ' knowledge 
appears and in an instant of time disappears : all 
is ceaseless flux.' The answer of Dravidian India 
came in the retort of Manikka Vachakar, that in all 
thought, in all perception, there must persist a 
momentary consciousness, a moment of appre- 
hension, which persistence was in itself evidence 
of reality. The argument was urged by Manikka 
Vacliakar, who asked how he could reply to a 
Buddhist who uttered madness, for, 
' before thou didst finish uttering forth thy words and meanings, 
since thine understanding must have passed away, what revela- 
tion of truth and virtue can there be ? ' (Pope, T. V. p. Ixix). 

The Buddhists, after long disputations, had to 
confess and in despair cry : 

*Thou sayest that we possess neither God nor salvation. 
What, then, is your God and your salvation?' 

The best non-doctrinal answer to this question is to 
be found in the T. V. of Manikka Vacliakar, now 
available for English readers in the versified tr. by 
Pope. These ' Holy Sayings ' are, in the words of 
the translator (p. ix, preface) : 



84 



DEAVIDIANS (South India) 



•d»nr redted In all the great lUiT» templM of South India, 
an on every one'i lipe, and ate aa dear U> the heart* of va«t 
maltiludM bt excellent people there aa the l>salnu of Uavid are 
to Jews and Cliristiana.' , . n r 

It U held that in South India the influence of 
theee hymiis was suoli that ^ . , . . j 

■|»ttM olow ol the 9th century both Buddhism and Jainuni had 
baoome Inert and dead ' (S.D., July 1909; NalU»wanii Pillai, 
Saiva Religion). , .. i c »• 

In these liyinns, or devotional son^ of mystic 
rapture over the works and grace of Siva, and tell- 
ing of tlie ecstatic joy of release from the bondage 
of ignorance and fieeds, Pope saw everywhere the 
influence of the Bhagavad-Gita, the deity Siva 
taking the place of Krsiia, the heroic deity of the 
Sanskrit poem (dating in its earliest form from 400 
B.C. to A.D. 200). The doctrine of bhakti, or faith 
of the Bhagavad-Gita, finds expression in the Saiva 
doctrine of the love and devotion of the soul to the 
belief and hope that Siva ^vill, through liis grace, 
grant knowledge of the soul's true nature, by 
whicli revelation of knowledge the soul would 
obtain release {nmkti)_iTom transmigrations. Ac- 
cording to the ^aiva, Aqamanta, either the position 
of the soul with regard to the grace of the Deity is 
helpless, in the position of a kitten towards its 
mother, until the grace of the Deity seizes it and 
brings it into salvation— a doctrine known as 
marjari-bhakti, or cat-like faith ; and this has 
been descrilxid as the lowest (sd bhakti adhamah) 
form of faith. Or, the soul may co-operate in 
securing salvation, being in the position of a young 
monkey grasping its mother — a doctrine known 
as markatatniaja-bhakti, or monkey-like faith, 
which is commended (S.Z)., Oct. 1910, Agamic note, 
p. 192). 

Pope held that this doctrine of bhakti, or faith, 
permeated the whole after-history of Saivism in a 
form in which 

' the fervent self-nefjating love and worship of Siva is represented 
as includint; all religion and transcending every kind of religious 
observance ' (T. V. p. Ixvii). 

The flame of revolt against Jainism and Bud- 
dhism is said to liave been fanned to a fiery 
persecution in the 8th cent, by Kuniarila Bliatta 
(a Brahman from Behar), who preached all over 
India antagonism to Buddhists and Jains alike, and 
inculcated a purer Brahmanism. It was left to 
Sahkaracharya, towards the end of the 8th or begin- 
ning of the 9th cent., to give the death-blow to 
Buddhi.sm in the south, and to lay the foundations 
of a wider and more philosojjhio Saivism than its 
earlier forms. Born a Nambutiri Brahman, in South 
India, at Malabar, he died at the early age of 32 in 
the Himalaya mountains, having crowded into a 
short life an enormous outpouring of his genius 
and learning in commentaries on the Upanisads, 
Brahma-sutras, and Bhagavad-Glta, while a vast 
number of revivalist short poems, still recited in 
the south, are ascribed to him. 

In these commentaries India saw its culminating 
point, in philosophic reasoning, in the doctrine he 
taught of advaita, or non-duality — the Indian form 
of monistic idealism. The monistic doctrine of 
Sahkara, with its underlying principle of a fictitious 
mayO,, coniuring up an unreal cosmos of dream life, 
with an abstract subject of thonglit as ultimate 
entity, was too va^e and idealistic to fonn a basis 
for a religion sufficient to satisfy the demands of 
the non-Brfthmanical Dravidians for realism and 
personal worship' and love for a Deity. Sahkara, 
therefore, admitted, as a preliminary to full know- 
le<lge of his advaita doctrines, tiie worship of 
various manifestations of Siva aa fonns of the All- 
Go<l, inculcating a more refined form of the worsliip, 
as oppo.ied to the popular worship of the iaktis, or 
female divinities. . He founded throughout India 
four monasteries, and his immediate disciples 
established ten orders of Saiva ascetics to carry on 
the attack against the rival Buddhist monastic 



orders. The present ^uru, or spiritual head— 
thirty-third in succession from Sahkara— of the 
monastery he founded at Srihggri, in Mysore, is 
the acknowledged head of the Tulu-speaking 
Smarta Brajinians who adhere to the advaita 
doctrine of Sahkara, which is still taught among 
Sm&rt& Brahmans in every considerable village in 
the south. , 

The spread of the worship of Siva was in the 
10th cent, further fostered by the conquests by 
the Chola Saiva monarcli, Raia Raja Deva (A.D. 
985), of the ancient Cliera and Pandya kingdoms 
and Ceylon, until finally the whole east coast be- 
came a united Chola and Eastern Chalukyan 
empire by matrimonial alliances between the two 
kingdoms. In the Deccan a great revival of 
Saivism is recorded to have taken place in the 
time of Bijjala, a Jain who liad usurped the 
throne of the last of the later Chalukyan monarchs, 
Some^vara IV. An inscription, of about A.D. 1200, 
gives an account of how the deity Siva 
' specially created a man in order to put a stop to the hostile 
observances of the Jains and Buddhists' (Thurston, op. nt. 
iv. 239). 

There is, further, a tradition that an incarnation 
of the bull — always associated with Siva as a 
form of his energy — was sent to earth in order to 
restore the worship of Siva, and that this incarna- 
tion appeared as a Kanarese Brahman, born near 
Bijapur and called Basava (Kanarese for 'bull') 
(Fleet, lA v. [1876] 239). Basava in due course 
liad the usurping Jain, Bijjala, assassinated, after 
whieli Chenna Iteava, the nephew of Basava, 
established the Saiva religion in the Kanarese 
country. The Saivas there are known as Vira 
&aiva, 'champions of Siva,' or Saiva Bhaktat, 
forming the sect of Lihgayats, who wear tlie lihgam 
and worship Nandi, the bull of Siva. 

4. Vaisnavisra and Hindu refori^ers.— The wor- 
ship of Vis'nu, as opposed to that of hiva, was taught 
by Kamanujacharya, a Brahman born in the 12th 
cent. [Barnett, Bhagavadqita, 1905, p. 55, says A.D. 
1017], near Madras. Faith in, and worship of, a 
Supreme Being, Vi§nu or Vasndeva, as Cause and 
Creator of the world as a real obiective existing 
cosmos, were inculcated, with the belief in soul as 
different from the Universal Soul. The doctrine 
taught respecting the Deity is that known as 
viU^tadvaita, or qualified non-duality, in opposi- 
tion to the earlier advaita doctrine of Sahkara. 
The Supreme Deity, according to this doctrine, 
is both the cause of the material world and the 
substance out of which it was created. Faith in 
this Deity became the centre of a revived Bhfi- 
gavatism. The persecution of Ramanuja by the 
Chola monarch, Kulottuhga or Rajendra Chola 11. 
(A.D. 1070 to 1118), led eventually to the spread of 
these new Bhagavat doctrines all over India. This 
was not finally accomplished until the 14th cent., 
when a new southern teacher, R<amananda, brought 
up at St. Thome, near Madras, became a convert 
to Bhagavatism in a worship of Rama Chandra, an 
incarnation of Visnu, which he preached as a faith 
for the mass of tlie people. The contact of Aryan 
learning and Dravidian religious feeling thus led 
to a revival of Hinduism all over India, for from 
Ramanuja in tlie 12th century 

' were spiritually descended Ramananda in the 14th, and Vidyi- 
pati and Chaitjinya in the 16th— the three apostles of Vaish- 
navism in Hindustan, Behar, and Bengal' (lloernle, Uiat. (/ 
India, 92). 

The chief followers of Ramanuja, known as Sri 
Vai^navas, are divided into two schools or sects 
—those of the North and those of the South, or 
Vadn galni, and Ten galai. Both schools hold to 
the Vedasand Vedantas, the Northern school being 
more orthodox in holding them as authoritative re- 
velations. The Northern school, further, recognizes 
I a male and a female energy in the Deity, and 



DRAVIDIANS (South India) 



2S 



'strongly insists on the concomitancy of tiie buraan will for 
securing saivation, wliereas the South School maintains the 
irresistibility of Divine grace in human salvation' (Kennet, 
I A iii. [1874]). 

The two schools are thus — like the ^aiva Agamic 
schools — divided on the subject of cat-like and 
monkey-like faith. The Southern school, in place 
of the Vedas, use their own canonical books of 
scripture, consisting of 4000 verses in Tamil, known 
as the Nalayira Prabandham. These verses are 
ascribed to saints called dlvdrs, held to have been 
incarnations of the Deity. These alvars are de- 
scribed as ' those drowned in or maddened with 
God love ' (A. Govindacharya, Lives of the Alvars, 
Mysore, 1902). The modern Bhagavata doctrine 
of faith of the South school of the Sri Vaisnavas 
has been raised to sublime heights in the Artha 
Panchaka al Pillai Lokacharya (A.D. 1213), until 
this faith 

*in its outward progress becomes more and more intense and 
nptorons. Instead of compelling it becomes inviting, instead 
of repeUin^ it becomes bewitching. Effort is merged in craving. 
Selt-aaaertion jfives place to self-abandon. The heart has be- 
come poured into the intellect, or rather, the intellect has 
become fused with the heart ' (tr. A. Govindach&rya, JRAS, 
July 1910). 

The last great Southern apostle of Vaisnavism 
was Madhvacharya, born 1331 as a Saiva follower 
of Sahkara, who became a fierce opponent of the 
Saivas and of the advaita philosophy. He preached, 
in opposition, pure duality, or dvaita, holding that 
the Supreme Being and the soul are different from 
matter, maya, which he held to be real and eternal. 
The Supreme Soul of Being was by him held to be 
Vi^nu or Naravana, incarnated as Kr.sna, and 
salvation was held to be gained by bhakU, or love 
for Vayu the son of Visnn. 

In the South Kanarese country most of the Tulu- 
speaking Brahmans are followers of Madhva, and, 
as might be ex|)ected, most of the Dra vidian Hindu 
classes are Saivas. A,t present a wide-spread re- 
vival of interest in Saivisra is taking place in 
South India, which demands the close attention of 
all those interested in the future religious life of 
India, which seems destined to be influence*! by 
the principle underlying the formulated doctrines 
of the Saivas. At a recent Saiva conference, held 
in 1909, at Trichinopoly, attended by Saivas from 
most of the Southern districts and even from Ceylon 
and Jafl'na, it is reported that the proceedings were 
opened by the recitation of some verses of the 
Devdram and T.V.,' which the Saivites like to call 
their Psalms.' The report further states that ' the 
Saiva Siddhanta ha.s been from the Ijeginning 
chiefly the philosophy of the Sudras.' The spirit 
of the present revival may be seen from the com- 
ments made on the report by the learned editor 
of the S.D., V. V. Ramanan— first, to the ellect 
that there were as many Brahmans present 'as 
could possibly be expected in such strictly re- 
ligious functions ' ; and, second, that ' the greatest 
Apostles of God whose teachings constitute the 
Saivddvaita Siddhdnta were for the most part 
Brahmans, and they threw open the flood-gates of 
true spiritual life for all children of God.' A 
further significant fact in connexion wuth this 
revival of interest in the history of the Saiva re- 
ligion is the increasing use made by Saiva writers 
of Scriptural phrases and analogies. A knowledge 
of the lormulated doctrines of the &a.iva. Siddhdnta 
will, therefore, become an increasing necessity for 
all those anxious to understand, or who are brought 
into contact with, the religious life of South India, 
which seems to tend towards a change in the direc- 
tion of greater tolerance for surronnding religious 
beliefs, and in the direction of purifying Saivism 
from the degrailing elements contained in the 
gToaaer forms of Sakti-worship. 

S Formulated doctrines of the Saivas.— The 
scbolaatic theological doctrines of the Saivas were 



in mediaeval times set forth in metrical stanzas, 
with necessary commentaries for tlieir proper in- 
terpretation, by a series of poet-philosophers held 
to have been spiritually descended from the first 
of these poets who received the earliest form in 
which they exist in South India, as a revelation 
from the Deity. This first form is known as the 
Siva JMna Bodham,^ or ' Enlightenment in ^iva- 
knowledge.' It was composed — or arranged — by 
Mey-kandar Devar, the Divine Seer of the Truth, 
in or about A.D. 1223. Mey-kandar was followed 
by Marai Jnana Sambandhar, who wrote the Saiva 
samai/d-neri, and whose disciple, the famed Kotta- 
vahgudi Umapati Sivacharyar, composed, in or 
about A.D. 1313, the Siva-prakdsam,^ or 'Light of 
Siva,' the Tim Arut Payan,^ or 'Fruit of Divine 
Grace,' and the Sahkarj>a Nirakaranam. The 
S. J. B. of Mey-kandar is held to be the most authori- 
tative of all these works, as being a direct revela- 
tion from Siva, 

' for the purpose of pointing out the way to proceed from the 
knowledge of the body full of sorrow to the knowledge of the 
soul and thence to the knowledge of the Supreme Spirit ' (tr. 
Nallaswami Pillai, Madras, 1S95). 

It is a free translation into Tamil — in Asiriyam 
metre with a commentary in Veinba metre — of 
twelve Sanskrit stanzas said to have formed part 
of Kaurava Agamn, of which Agamas, or early 
works in Sanskrit inculcating the mystic worship 
of Siva and Sakti, there are .said to be 28, now 
gradually coming to light, of which two have been 
translated.* The Tamil stanzas of Mey-kandar 
are of such 

'extreme terseness of diction and brevity of expression that 
even the ordinary Pundits are not able to understand them 
without proper conmientaries, and very few Pundits can be 
found in Southern India who are able to expound the text 
properly even now ' (Nallaswami Pillai, op. cit. p. vlii). 

Bamett has recently contended {./MAS, July 
1910) — and his view has been accepted in ^aiva 
centres in Madras— that the formulated doctrines 
of the Saivas, as they first appear in the S.J.B., 
reached the Southern Dravidians from the north. 
His contention is therefore that the 
' hving faith of the majority of living Tamils is almost in every 
respect, and certainly in all essentials, the same do<:trine that 
was taught in Kaslimir about the beginnmg of the 11th cent, 
by Abhinava Gupta.' 

Both of the schools he traces to the Svetdivatara 
Upanisad, and points out that 

'the elements of .the Tamil 6aiva Siddhanta, the Sanskrit 
Agamas,aad the Saiva theology of Kashmir are all contained 
in the Soetdivatara Upanimd., which was canonical long 
before the days of Sankara' (S.D., June 1910). 
These ideas of the Svetdivatara Upanisad were 
in Kashmir formulated into the Spanda and Praty- 
abhijiia schools, and, according to Bamett, 
'meanwhile filtered down through various channels into the 
lands of the Dravidians, for whose ancient cults it supplied a 
theological basis.' 

Whatever may be the final conclusion on this 
point, as to whether the formulated doctrines of 
the Saivas descended from north to south or 
a.scended from south to north— for the Svetdivatara 
Upanisad and the various current schools of 
Indian philosophy, such as the Sahkhya, Yoga, 
and Vedanta, M-ere in the 5th cent, equally well 
known in the south and in the north, and Sanskrit 
was used for literary purposes in the south as well 
as in the north— all the technical terms of the 
system and its essential features are contained in 
Saiva devotional literature of South India from 
the 7th and 8th centuries. These technical terms 
and essential features are — as set forth, towards 
the^end of the 8th or beginning of the 9th cent., 
in Sahkara's Commentary on the Brahma Satraa 
(ii. 2. 37)— that 

I Hereafter cited as S.J.B. 2 Hereafter cited as S.P. 

' Hereafter cited as T.A.P. 

* A full account of the Agnmat is given by V. V. Rainapan in 
his tr. of Appaya's Commentary on Vedanta-sOtros (Madras ; 
now being printed in parts). 



so 



DRAVIDIANS (South India) 



* th* Lord (Pati) wu the opentire nuse o( the world, and that 
the bonds (pdiam) o( Uie soul (poiu, or animal) were broken by 
the teachings of the Lord.' 

The formuluted doctrines, as they first appear in 
the S.J.B., merely give the scholiiatic explanation 
of these terms, and teach the means wliereliy tlie 
middle term (in pati piliam paMi), the ' bond,' or 
pdUam, may be sublimated, and how the soul, or 
paht, free from the fetter, may then unite with 
its Master, the Lord. 

These formulated doctrines, so far as it has been 
found possible to extract a consistent account from 
conflicting interpretations, are as follows : — 

i. Siva, the efficient cause ok creation.— 
A First Cause is postulated from a principle of 
effect and cause. According to the S.J.B., be- 
cause the Universe is seen difl'erentiated into forms 
known as ' he, she, and it,' and undergoes changes 
of devolution, continuation, and involution, it re- 
quires a First Cause ; just as, when one sees a pot, 
a cause — the potter— is required. This First Cause 
ia not, however, reduced to the advaifa, or non- 
duality of Sankara — One only without a Second — 
where the cosmos is a delusion conjured up as a 
dream by an unreal indya. The Saiva system is, 
nevertheless, held to be adyaita, and to be founded 
on strict non-duality. Siva is, accordingly, the 
Sole Cause, without any other co-o[)erating deity 
such as Brahma or Vi^nu, the Brahmanic Creator 
and Preserver, for 'we cannot find out cause for 
ultimate cause' (Siva Jndna RatndvaW^ [a modern 
catechism]). Siva stands supreme ; all the deities 
of later Brahnianism are merely of the nature of 
highest souls, dependent on Siva to carry out his 
disposition or energy. He alone is the source 
from which the cosmos is energized throughout 
its course of creation, preservation, and involu- 
tion. He is never the object of thought, he re- 
mains eternally pure Subject. He is neither 
spiritual form, nor is he formless (S.P. xiv.). 

Almost the first — the ever repeated — verse of the Kxtral 
declares ; * He has neither likes nor dislikes (desires nor non- 
desires).' To the question, Has God form or no form, or is He 
both form and formless ? we find the answer, * He has all 
the above three and none of these ' (S,J.R.). It is also 
declared that ' He is form and not form, but to those who 
know Him he has the form of knowledge ' {T.A.P. I. iv.). He 
ifl also said to be ' incomprehensible by His greatness, by His 
minuteness, by His great grace, and in the benefits He confers ' 
(S.J.B. L 3). Being neither spirit nor form, but 'being Abso- 
lute Being (or md) or pure Subject, he can never be the object 
of cognition ' (Hoisington, S.P. xiiL). The full definition of 
Siva, considered to be the true and only full One, is : ' Tliat 
which is perceived by the senses is a-sat (not-Being or Change- 
able). That which is not so perceived does not exist. God is 
neither the one nor the other, and hence called Siva Sat (pure 
Being) by the wise, chit (pure Intelligence) or Siva, when not 
understood by tjie hmnan intelligence, and Sat (Being) when 
perceived by divine intelligence' (S.J.B. vi.). He is, as tran- 
scendent Being, in inseparable connexion with dispositions or 
higher energies, the para saktis, of Being, Intelligence, and 
Bliss, or Sat, chit, ananda. 

Notwithstanding these fundamental doctrines of 
the advaita nature of Siva as Final Cause and 
Abstract Subject of Thought, he is, in one form or 
another, represented in the many Saiva temples. 
It is contended, by the modern Saiva reformer, 
who sees that ' the worst feature of modern 
Hinduism is its idolatry' (Nallaswami, op. cit., 
Preface), that all these forms in temples are merely 

gmbolical of some idea or thought respecting a 
eitjr who eternally remains formless. In popular 
imagination these temple-forms are viewed as the 
very abode of a deity, to whom food and offerings 
are presented for material enjoyment. "The two 
idols to which popular Saivism pays peculiar 
adoration are, 

'flrst, the Mijam and liAgi; and, secondly, the image of Siva 
accompanied with Uni&, whose form is generally combined into 
one with his. These really represent one idea, Siva and Sakti, 
the god and the energy which is inseitarable from him, which 
combine to create, sustain, and destroy the Universe' " 

T.V. P.XXZT). 



' (I'ope, 



I nereatt«r cited «■ S.J.R. 



The worship of the lihgam and lihqi is explained 
by intellectual ^aivas to be the worship not of phallic 
emblems, but of the representatives of the pillar 
or tem|)le of the Deity, and various other ideas 
told of in the Purfiiias, such as the pillar of lire in 
which the energy oit Siva ai)peared liefore Brahm& 
and Vi^nu, to sliow his supremacy, so that thence- 
forth 

' the worship of the liAgam has been Inaugurated in the world. 
The pedestal ((t%i) is Mahadevi, and the lihgam itself la the 
visibU; Maheivara ' (Pope, T. V. 15'J). 

(a) The necessity for creation. — There exists, it 
is held, an eternal necessity that a cosmos must 
be created, because souls, which never vary in 
number and are eternal, require a cosmos wherein 
to work out the result of kamui, or deeds, which 
is also eternal. 

The S.P., therefore, says that 
* Creation is an act of grace ; in the world alone soulf are ftbia 
to eat their karma and to rid themselves of impurity and 
attain muifi', union with God' (Goodwill, S.D., March 1903, 
p. 148). 

The underlying principle of this doctrine is that 
deeds, or karma, must be ripened before they can 
be eaten or consumed; and, as a place for this 
process of ripening is necessary, a cosmos must of 
necessity be evolved, and this evolution can take 
place only through the grace, or love, of Siva. It 
IS not until deeds of the past births, deeds of the 

E resent birth, and deeds of the enlightened dona 
etween enlightenment and final release mo 
' balanced' that final union of the soul with Siva 
ensues. The T.A.P. (vi. 1) clearly states that it 
is not possible for release to take place until ' the 
unequal good and evil become balanced.' All deed 
being an evil, as merely leading to re-births, it 
becomes necessary that Siva, through his grace, 
should evolve a Universe, at the end of each £eon, 
for the benefit of the flock of souls who have not 
attained the balancing of their deeds and release 
in previous existences of the phenomenal Universe. 
At the commencement of each a;on 
' the unconscious souls shrouded in that primeval darkness are 
responsible — in some inexplicable fashion — for the old, eternal 
deeds, the fruit of which must be consumed by each at the time 
of its maturity ' (Pope, Ndladiydr, p. 07). 

The S.P., which of all the texts gives the clearest 
exposition of this Dravidian method of dealing 
with the soul's state of 'original sin,' does so by 
merely saying that it is the soul's natural st.tte ; 
that there is no assignable cause for it ; that, 
while the Deity is pure, the soul is impure in the 
natural state, just as the coat of rust is natural to 
copper (Hoisington, p. 149). 

(o) Method and source of creation. — Absolute 
Being having been acceptecf by the Dravidians as 
the highest philosophic truth that could be ex- 
tracted from surrounding current Yoga, Sankhya, 
and Vedanta philosophies, it became a necessity 
to bring this philosophic conception into con- 
formity witli the religious wants of the people. 
The ordinary intelligence of the Dravidian folk — 
whom it was necessary to enfold in Hinduism — 
demanded a beneficent Deity, all-powerful and 
all-gracious, willing and able to save the soul from 
the haunting terrors of transmigrations in higher 
and lower forms, the awards of deed, and a real 
Universe. Realism— the banner of the revolt 
under which the Dravidian intellect fought 
against Aryan non-duality— finally conquered, 
and, as a result, the so-called advaita, or non- 
duality, of the philosophic conception of Siva had 
to become graduated down till it became what is 
virtually a form of dvaita, or duality. 

The stages of reasoning by which this transition 
is graduated could hardly ever have appealed to 
popular imagination, or even to common intelli- 
gence. Saiva philosophy, loth to hold the cosmos 
as unreal, as the dream product of unreal maya, 
and still keen to caU its system advaita, or non- 



DRAVIDTANS (South India) 



27 



duality, had, neverthejess, to frame a theory to 
explain Ett'ect from Siva, Ultimate Cause. To 
postulate matter (see SAltKHYA) would have at once 
reduced the system to pu/e duality, inconsistent 
with tlie conception of Siva ; accordingly there 
was postulated merely the existence of an under- 
lying basis of creation, an essence, a form of 
matter, elemental matter which was called pure 
{suddha) maya. This pure mdya, or elemental 
abstract matter, is held to co-exist with Siva 
eternally, producing differentiated spheres of 
action for souls. Pure maud has, however, no 
connexion with souls, which are associated with 
an impure form of elemental matter (akin to the 
Sahkhya prakfti) known as impure (aiuddha) 
maya. In tliis impure maya inhere the malas, or 
impurities of souls — those of karma, or deed, and 
dnavam, ignorance, the state or condition of the 
soul {anu) (Tattva Kaltalei, p. 14). 

Siva, co-existing with pure nulya as an efficient 
cause of creation, is pure thought (chit), pure bliss 
(ananda), aa dispositions or energies, as well as 
having the dispositions or energies of desire or 
will (iccha), action (Ariya), and knowledge (^Vtajia). 
These are the highest of Siva's energies, liis para 
iaktU, essentially connected with him, but over 
which he stands aloof and supreme. From the 
first two of these panl iaktis, thought and bliss, 
are successively developed thejjard iaktis of desire, 
action, and wisdom. 

All existence, from Absolute Being to earth, 
is differentiated as possessing essential natures, 
categories, or properties called tattvas. Of these 
tattvas there are 36 primary, which produce a 
cosmos of 60 subordinate tattvas. The 36 pri- 
mary tattvas contain 5 pure tattvas, which spring 
into being by the grace of Siva's para iaktis. Of 
the 6 pure tattvas the 1st is Nadam, the male 
energy of Deity, developed from pure mdyd ; the 
2nd IS Vindu, the female enerL'y of Deity, developed 
from Nadam ; the 3rd, devejoped from Vindu, is 
Sada Siva, or the state of Siva before assuming 
forms for the enlightenment of souls ; the 4th 
is I6vara, developed from Sada Siva, which is the 
obscuring element ; and the 5th, developed from 
Isvara, is pure knowledge, the pure element which 
enlightens souls (Hoisingtqn, 'Tattva Kattalei,' 
JAOS, 1854). The Sada Siva tattva is that in 
which the two energies of action and knowledge 
are equal, the Isvara tattva is that in wliicli 
action predominates over knowledge, and the 
pure knowledge tattva is that in which the energy 
of knowledge predominates over that of action. 

It follows from this that Siva may be taken as 
the efficient cause of creation, the para sdktis being 
the instrumental cause, and mdyd the material 
cause. 

The process is explained, perhaps more clearly than else- 
where, in .9. P. (xxii.). llere it is sta^d that the Niidam, or 
Bivam, or male energy, the first of the Siva tattvas, is developed 
from kv4ilei, or germ, or pure mdyd, by the operation of niva's 
parA iakti, knowledge ; and that, by the co-operation of the 
iakti of action, Vindu, or separately ori^nized female 
" ■' Si 



_7, Is developed from Nadam ; thence Sada Siva, Isvara, 
and pure knowledge. 

These 5 pure tattvas pertain only to the highest 
order of souls, the vijndna Icalars, who have only 
the single m^tla of dnavam ; for souls associated 
with the impure form of elemental matter — iniimre 
mdyd — there is a live-fold investment, or paAcha 
kaflchuka, developed, by the grace of Sada Siva, 
of 5 impure tattvas : Kalara (time), Niyati (neces- 
sity), Kala (determination), and— developed from 
Kala — Vidya (finite knowledge), and Ragara or 
Iccha (desire). In addition to the above five-fold 
investment, there is developed — by the grace of 
pure knowledge — first, mula prakfiti,^ the source 

1 'The S&nkhyas maintain that Prakfiti is eternal. But that 
i» not correct ; for, aa it is multifariously varied among all 
I of souls, it is not eternal (is perishable) like an earthen 



(material) of all the subsequent developments : 
(1) chittam (the will), (2) buddhi (the juclgment), 
(3) ahamkdram (the individuality or the I-maker), 
and (4) manas (mind or understanding) ; thence — 
very mucli after the manner of all Saiikhyan and 
other Indian metapliysics — tlie 20 primary ele- 
mental natures, tattvas, or categories, earth, water, 
fire, and ether ; ears, skin, eyes, tongue, nose ; tan- 
mdtras, or the rudimentary elements of sound, 
touch, form, smell ; and organs of actions, hands, 
feet, mouth, excretion, and generation. From 
these primary tattvas are developed, in the usual 
manner of Indian philosophy, the subordinate 60 
tattvas, or visible physical external organs (Hoi- 
sington, loc. cit.). 

ii. The soul. — The soul is held to be enclosed 
from eternity in a fine or subtle body, or suksTna 
sarira. This is an inherent covering which per- 
sists with the soul through all its transmigra- 
tions. It passes with the soul to the various 
heavens or hells, where rewards or penalties for 
good and evil deeds are experienced, and it also 
envelops it during re-birth. The soul is called 
anu — a word derived from anu, ' atom,' because it 
is exceedingly small ; and it is so called because, 
when Rs.sociated with ignorance or diiavam, the 
state of the atom is very small, although it is a 
Vindu (cosmic germ) in its natural state (Nallas- 
wami, S.J.B. p. 4). It is also said that the soul 
(Skr. dtmd) is called anu (' atom' ), 
'because the all-pervading nature of the soul {iltma) has 
become limited to an atom by its bondage' (5.i^.i{.). 

The soul — from eternity being associated with 
the impurities, or malas, of dnavam, mdyd, and 
karma — has first to arouse the grace (a^ntl) of the 
Deity to appear as an obscuring energy or tirodha 
iaktt, before the soul, freed from its malas, can 
gain knowledge and 'see the truth of its oneness 
with Siva' (S.J.B. vi.). 

The soul is defined in the S.J.B. (i.) as ' mdydvi 
yantra tanuvinul dnmd (atma),' or as existing 
within the body as a «iai/fZ-made instrument. AU 
souls are divided into (\)vijAdnakalars, (2)pralayd- 
kalars, and (3) sakalars. The first, or highest, 
order of souls — the vijndnakalars — are freed from 
maya and karma (matter and deeds), and have 
only one mala, or impurity, of dnavam, or nature 
of the soul. These souls have reached the sphere 
of the 5 pure tattvas, and, being freed from future 
births and re-births, merely await final union with 
Siva. The second class of souls — the pralaydkalars 
— are under the influence of the two malas of dna- 
vam and karma, which condition them to renewed 
births and re-births. The third class— the sakalars 
— which includes all human beings and the ordi- 
nary gods or devas, have the three malas of dnavam, 
karma, and mdyd, and are subject to sense per- 
ception, having corporeal existences, wherein 
karma has to be balanced. The soul which has 
corporeal existences is described as proceeding at 
death from its physical body, or sthfila iarira, to 
'undergo its experiences in heaven or hell, and forgetting 
such experiences, just as a dreamer forgets his experiences of 
the waking state, passes as an atom in its Uukshma ^rira 
state into a suitable womb at conception, impelled thereto by 
the desire created by its previous karma* (Nallaswami PiUai, 
S.J.B. p. 13). 

iii. The bond and the release of the soul. 
— The pdsam, the bond, which fetters the soul's 
intelligence is a rope of three strands made up of 
dnavam, two-fold deeds, and mdyd. Anavam, or 
state or character of the soul (anu, ' atom '), is 
the first strand of the rope which fetters the 
soul, and it persists beyond the other two strands. 
This dnavam is an essentially inherent mala, or 
defilement, which darkens the soul's light or 

vessel. Hence its source or cause is Maya ' (S.J. /?. xli. [ Hoising- 
ton]). This is opposed to the Saiikhya theory that mula prakxUi, 
primordial matter, can self-develop the cosmos. 



88 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Introductory) 



intelltj^ence, so tliat it cannot understand its true 
naturo {S.J.B. iv.), its oneness with Siva. 

Tliis ignorance or darkness of tlio soul must 
receive enli};litenincnt, two-fold deeds must be 
balanced, and maya sablimate<l, before the soul 
gains its final release {mukti, Skr. ; mutii or vldu, 
Tamil). The soul was, by the grace of Siva, sent 
into sense-perception with a cosmos, 
*in order that, the effect of deeds (a parte ante) being re- 




p. xlvi). 

The Final Cause, Siva, being pure Subject of 
thought, could never be an object of knowledge to 
the soul. Soul being associated with sense-per- 
ception cannot ' rise aijove itself in intelligence.' 

The soul can daily become more contemplative ; 
more conscious that there must be some final 
solution of its unrest; more spiritual (1) by per- 
forming all the usual devotional altruistic practices 
(charya), (2) by practice of religious ritual and 
worship of the Deity and Divine teachers as 
symbolized in the temples (kriya), and (3) by 
practices (yoga) of a physical nature to aid in the 
contemplation of the Deity (see Yoga). All these 
three — charya, kriya, yoga — can only add to karma 
further transmigrations. They, however, so 
spiritualize the soul that it becomes fit for final 
leading to enlightenment. 

The S.P. (sutra Ixxvi.) sums up the final doc- 
trine of release by declaring that the triple bond 
of anavam, karma, and ■maya can be destroyed 
only by the grace of Siva, which is the same as 
the para iakti of pure knowledge ; this alone 
will ' cau.se the soul to unite with the Divine feet 
of Siva.' The S.J.B. (sutra viii.) shows how the 
grace (or and) of Siva supplies a Divine teacher, 
or guru, to enlighten the soul : 

'The Lord, appearing aa guru to the soul, which has 
advanced in charya, kriyd, and yoga, instructs him that he is 
wasting himself hy living among the savage five senses ; and 
the soul, understanding its real nature, leaves its former 
associates, and, not being different from Him, becomes united 
to His feet.' 

_ The Siva system thus ascribes the self-illumina- 
tion of the soul, as pure subject of thought 
identical with the supreme subject of thought, to 
the grace, or highest disposition or energy, of the 
Deity energizing the soul to this self -illumination 
by means of a Divine teacher. This knowledge is 
said to spring up spontaneously to vijUanakalars, 
or highest order of souls ; to the firalayakalars it 
comes througli a guru, or teacher in Divine form ; 
and for the sakalars the Deity conceals Himself as 
a guru, or teacher, in human form, and imparts 
knowledge. The soul, while awaiting final release, 
must (1) listen with desire to the guru's teaching, 
and must practise (2) meditation, (3) understanding, 
and (4) abstraction from all objects of sense (S.P. 
xxxiii.). These and the constant inaudible re- 
petition of the five mystic syllables H-va-ya-na-ma 
('salutation to Siva') will have the result that 



' the tirt'j<lhd, * ' energ>' " (Skr. tirodh^ = * conceal '), in them will 
herself remove the inaia-i and cause arul to am>ear ' (S. P. xciii.). 

There are ten imperfect forms of emancipation, 
including that of the gainiiij' of snj)ernatural 
powers — so commonly profes.sed in India— as the 
result of acquiring the nature and powers of the 
Divinity. Ihis jmwer over supernatural Rowera 
has been described as the teaching of some Saivas 
who profess that 

' the soul acquires mystic miraculous powers; that, in tact, the 
emancipated one is so made partaker of the Divine nature and 
attributes tiiat he is able to gain possession of and exercise 
miraculous powers, which are called the eight "siddhis." 
Persons professing to wield such magical powers are not in- 
frequently found in India, and there is in them a bewildering 
mixture of enthusiasm and fraud ' (Pope, T. V. p. xliii). 
In the recognized form of emancipation, or union 
with the Deity, an essential feature of the Saiva 
religion is that there is 

' no annihilation of the soul, but its individuality or egoism is 
lost,— its karma having been eaten. Its identity is lost but not 
itself ' (Nallaswami, S.J. B. p. 59). • 

The soul has, as the result of release, this conscious 
immortality in a separate existence ; for, although 
'sharing the blessedness and wisdom of the supreme, it is 
unmingled with His essence ' (Pope, T. V. p. Ixv). 

S.P. (Ixxxi.) says tliat tiie soul, when freed, 
' is closely united with the higher knowledge, the para iakti, by 
whom it is illuminated, and in whom it has a flrm footing — and 
the soul becomes so intimately united with Siva that they 
constitute adtaiia, non-duality, and thus it rests in him as the 
air rests in space, and as 8.alt dissolved in water.' 

T.A.P. says (viii. 76) distinctly that, if the soul and &T» 
become one, there is nothing ; if there is duality, no release, or 
tnnkti, could arise ; tlicrefore, in the mystic union of the soul 
and Siva there is neither duality nor non-duality. The union 
is to be held similar to that seen when the words tal, 'foot' 
(soul), and talai, ' head ' (6iva), are joined ; according to the rules 
of Tamil phonetics, the combined word becomes tdipilai, the 
I and t becoming united into ^ ; ' so consider the union of soul 
and Siva' (viii. 77). 

Before the soul passes to its eternal rest in Siva, 
it is a jivan mutlar, ' freed from life,' but living 
' in the body still for a little while, but is one in feeling, soul, 
and power, and faculty, witli the Infinite Eternal. He has put 
off his rich garments and adornments, is besmeared with white 
ashes, and wears the peculiar habiliment of the ascetic. From 
his head depends the braided lock of the Saiva ascetic ; one 
hand grasps the staff, and the other the mendicant's twwj ; he 
has for ever renounced the world— all the worlds— save Siva's 
self ' (Pope from Vdthavurar Purd^ytm [T. V. p. xiiij). 

LiiKRATURE.— L. D. Bamett,Catalmueof Tamil Booksinthe 
Brit. Must., London, 1809, artt. in JRAS and Siddhdnta Dipika ; 
Linguistic Survey of India, vol. iv. ' MuQ(,la and Dravidian 
l^anguages'; J. M. Nallaswami PUlai, Sairn Religion, 
Madras, 1909 ; tr. of Sira Jfldna Bodham, Madras, 1895, Light 
of Grace (Tint Aru( Payan), pamphlet, Madras, 1896 (for 
critical purposes the original must be referred to) ; G. V. Pope, 
trr. (London), with valuable notes, of Rural, 1886, Ndlad-iyar, 
1893, Tint Vdchakam, 1900 (original Tamil should always be 
referred to) ; V. V. Ramarian, Notes and trr. in Siddhdnta 
Dipika, tr. of Vlddnta-Sutra-Saica-Bhd^ya, with notes and 
commentaries, Madras (now being issued in parts); M, 
SEshagiri Sastri, Essay in Tamil Literature, Madras, 1897; 
Siddhdnta Dipika, monthly journal, Madras (early parts 
difficult to obtain : British Museum has copies) ; Sundaram 
PUlai, Some Milestones in Taynil Literature, Madras, 1895, 
reprinted with postscript in Tamil Antiquary, 1909 (with 
valuable preface by V. Venkayya) ; Tamil Antiquary ; publica- 
tions of "Tamil Archieological Society (estabhshed 1903), Madras ; 
E. Thurston, assisted by K. Rangachari, Castes and IViies 
of Southern India, 7 vols., Madras, 1909 ; J. Vinson, L^gendet 
bouddhistes et djainas, Paris, 1900 (containing summaries of 
three Tamil classics — Chintdmani, ^illapp'adhikdram, and 
ilax^imekhalai). R. W. Frazer. 



Introductory (A. Lanq and A. E. Taylor), 
p. 28. '' 

American.— See Divination (American). 
Babylonian (A. H. Savck), p. 33. 
Egyptian (G. Foucart), p. 34. 

DREAMS AND SLEEP,— i. General.— From 
the point of view of psycho-physiology, dreaming 
18 only a nart of the more general phenomenon of 
sleep, and («vnnot be fully treated except in con- 
nexion with the wider topic. The physiology of 
sleep and dreams is still very little unclerstood, as 



DREAMS AND SLEEP. 



Greek.— See Introd. art., p. 30. 
Japanese. — See Divination (Japanese). 
Jewish.— See Divination (Jewish). 
Teutonic (B. S. Phillpotts), p. 37. 
Vedic (G. M. Bolling), p. 38. 

will be seen by comparing the earliest solentifio 
treatment of the suliject, that of Aristotle, with 
the latest hypotheses of modern physiological 
psycholoipr. 

According to Aristotle {de Somno, de Somniia, 
and de Divinatione per Somnum), sleep is a 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Introductory) 



29 



periodica) phenomenon found in all animals, and 
in animals only. It is thus an affection of 
that phase of mental life which is common and 
peculiar to animals, the faculty of presentation 
{rb ipavTairTtKdv). Its raison d'etre is the need for 
periodical recovery of the organs of presentation 
from the fatigue attendant on long-continued exer- 
cise. Since this state of fatigue attacks the whole 
presentative machinery simultaneously, the con- 
ditions characteristic of sleep must be sought 
principally, not in any of the special sense-organs, 
but in the Koithv alad-rp-itpi-ov, or central seat of pre- 
sentation, the heart. More precisely the recurrence 
of sleep is due to changes in the blood consequent 
on the taking of food. Food, when taken into the 
blood, evolves heat and evaporation ; the evapora- 
tion is suddenly cooled on reaching the brain, and 
a movement of antiperistasis is set up, in which 
most of the vaporized matter is repelled again 
downwards. It is to this that the muscular re- 
laxation and sensory inactivity of sleep are due. 
Aristotle thus anticipates both the views that the 
immediate cause of sleep is a changed condition of 
the ' highest centres,' and that the change is due 
to the temporary presence of toxic substances in 
the blood. Dreams are affections of the central 
organ of consciousness {Koivbv aladip-tipiov), which 
mast be carefully distinguished from actual sense- 
percepts. In perception the affection is originated 
by a real physical stimulus ; in sleep such actual 
perceptions occur sporadically, but they are not 
the main stuff which dreams are made of. The 
direct cause of the dream is tlie persistence in the 
' common ' or central sensorium of faint relics of 
the motions formerly aroused by actual stimu- 
lation. These residual motions are equally pre- 
sent in waking life, but are not attended to 
becan.se they are obscured by the more violent 
motions due to actual present stimulus. In sleep, 
where actual stimulation is excluded, the more 
minute affections of the system due to these mini- 
mal disturbances become apparent. Hence we 
are enabled to give a rationalistic explanation of 
genuine prophetic or ' veridical ' dreams, when 
they are not due, as most of them are, to mere 
coincidence. Veridical dreams of impending ill- 
ness, or recovery, or death are 'indications' of 
the coming event, due to the dreamer's sensibility 
to minute organic disturbances which are imper- 
ceptible in waking life. In other cases a dream 
may actually be the cause of its own fulfilment, 
by providing the first suggestion of an action 
which is afterwards dwelt on and carried out in 
the waking state. Veridical dreams about the 
condition of our intimate friends are accounted 
for on the ground of our special preoccupation 
with their concerns, which renders the sleeping 
soul exceptionally sensitive to those minimal dis- 
turbances in its surroundings which originate in 
the friend's organism. It is never permissible to 
ascribe such dreams to the direct agency of God ; 
if they came from God, they should be specially 
vouchsafed to the wisest and best men (which is 
not the ca.se), and their occurrence should exhibit 
marks of intelligent design instead of being, as it 
is, sporadic and casual. 

The best modem accounts of the subject as a 
part of general psychology are perhaps those of 
Volkmann von Volkmar (especially good on the 
descriptive side) and Wundt (see Lit. below). The 
following summary is taken from Wundt. 

The causes of sleep, as of other periodical func- 
tions of the organism, must be looked for in the 
central nervous system. It is probably a condition 
due to the temporary exiianstion of the available 
energies of the nervous system, and has for its 
pnrpose the accumulation of fresh ' tensional 
lorces,' which is favoured by muscular inactivity 



and diminished production of heat. A second 
condition is the complete or partial abolition of 
attention. (Animals regularly fall asleep if de- 
prived of their usual sensory stimuli, and so do 
men of low mental capacity. ) It is probable that 
this nervous exhaustion is merely a general con- 
dition favourable to sleep, its direct exciting cause 
being a specific alteration of condition in the 
central nervous system which is normally accom- 
panied with the relaxation of attention. It is 
most likely that narcotics produce their efi'ect by 
inducing this central change. Hence Purkinje 
and others have held that the direct cause of sleep 
is to be found in the partial using up of the oxygen 
of the nervous system effected by the accumula- 
tion of carbonic acid, the final product of respira- 
tion. In what region of the brain the assumed 
' sleep-centre ' lies is not known. The physio- 
logical changes induced are in general of the 
nature of inhibitions, e.g. diminution of the acti- 
vity of heart and respiratory apparatus, probably 
due to contraction of the smallest cerebral blood- 
vessels. The period of deepest sleep appears to 
begin about three-quarters of an hour after its 
commencement, and to last about half an hour. 
Then follows a period of lighter slumber of several 
hours' duration, which forms a preparation for 
waking. The period of deepest sleep is probably, 
as a rule, one of complete, or all but complete, un- 
consciousness. Dreaming, on this view, is an ac- 
companiment of the gradual transition from sleep 
to waking. Similarly, Volkmann divides the pro- 
cesses into five stages : (1) drowsiness; (2) falling 
asleep ; (3) complete sleep ; (4) lighter sleep, at- 
tended by dreams ; (5) waking. The dream has 
two chief characteristics : (a) the memory images 
of which it is largely composed are hallucinatory, 
i.e. they are mistaken for real and present physical 
things ; (b) the process of apperception is altered, 
so that the actual percepts which enter into the 
dream are interpreted in an illusory fashion. 

Dream-appearances, which Volkmann classes as 
hallucinations, are more accurately regarded by 
Wundt as generally, if not always, based on illu- 
sion ; i.e. they are misinterpretations of actual 
minimal sense-impressions, such as those due to 
slight noises, to the position of the sleeper's limbs, 
to trifling pains, slight difficulties in breathing, 
palpitations, and the like. A slight intercostal 
pain Ls mistaken for the stab of an enemy's 
dagger, a movement of the foot for a fall from a 
tower, the rhythm of our own breathing for the 
rhythmical motions of flying, etc. The visual 
dream is based on erroneous interpretation of 
internal retinal stimulations, which appear to the 
dreamer as flights of birds, butterflies, (islies, etc. 
(The present writer does not believe that he ever 
has dreams of this kind, which Wundt regards as 
remarkably common.) Dreams of water are ex- 
plained by Wundt as due to Urindrang in the 
sleeper's body. Hence again the exceptional fre- 
quency of dreams of fishes. (The present writer, 
in general a constant and vivid dreamer, never 
dreams of fishes at all, nor do several persons 
of whom he has made inquiries.) The common 
dream in which we hunt for an object that can 
never be found, or start on a journey and have 
repeatedly to return for something that has been 
forgotten, is explained as due to disturbances of 
the Gemeing^uhl, the general mass of organic 
sensations. "The successive illusions of the dream 
are woven into a continuous story by association 
with memory-images. Wundt attaches special im- 
portance to memories from the immediate past, 
particularly those connected with deep emotional 
excitement. Thus he accounts for our dreams of 
the recently dead by the emotion with wliicli we 
watched their last moments and attended their 



30 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Introductory) 



burial. (This explanation is clearly insufficient. 
We dream regularly of those for whom we have 
cared the nio»t, though their death may not have 
been recent, and may have taken place at the 
other end of the world. Wundt also omits to 
take account of the common tendency to dream of 
events from our early childhood, even when they 
are of a trivial kind and not likely ever to have 
been attended with any special degree of emo- 
tional excitement.) 

In general this account would seem to lay too 
much stress on the clement of illusion and too 
little on that of hallucination. It is probably 
true that actual minimal sensations form points 
de repire in all our dreams, but there is no reason 
to confine the element of genuine hallucination 
to the one function of establishing links of con- 
nexion. Nor is association by itself a sufficient 
principle to explain the way in which the dreamer 
interprets his minimal percepts. The individual's 
habits of diet, no doubt, largely determine the 
type of his dreams. A man who eats a heavy 
meal just before going to bed is likely to dream 
very diflerently from one whose meals are light 
and who eats and drinks nothing for several hours 
before going to sleep. But, in the main, the cue 
for our interpretation of our dream-sensations is 
given by our emotional interests : we dream most 
about the things and persons wherein we are 
interested. Hence dreams often exhibit a more 
rigidly logicaJ sequence of events than the facts of 
waking life. Since the ordinary avenues of inter- 
course with the extra-subjective world are all but 
cut off in sleep, the dream can follow its course 
without interruption, whereas in waking life we 
have constantly to suspend the working-out of a 
course of thought or action to attend to wholly 
irrelevant issues. In much the same way we may 
explain two of the most familiar peculiarities of 
dreams — their extraordinary vividness, and the 
curious foreshortening of time which seems to 
occur in them. The vividness seems to be due 
to the absence of the mass of complex and un- 
interesting detail in which the really interesting 
experiences of waking life are framed. The inter- 
esting presentation stands out alone, or almost 
alone, and thus engrosses the whole available at- 
tention of the sleeper ; if we see a sunlit meadow, 
we see also the shadows that sweep across it, but 
in a dream we may bo aware of the light without 
the shadow. So with the apparent shortening of 
time. The dream is wholly made up of the inter- 
esting moments, without the uninteresting detail 
which would form their setting in real life. We 
may dream, e.g., of eating a dinner, but we do 
not dream each bite separately, though we should 
have to perform each separately in real life. Or 
we dream of an important interview, without 
dreaming of all the uninteresting and irrelevant 
'padding ' which would really spin it out. Hence 
the apparent contraction of events which would 
really fill hours or days into a dream which occu- 
pies a few seconds of real time. 

The question whether sleep is always accom- 
panied by dreams or not is one which there seems 
no means of answering. The general opinion of 
psychologists appears to be that the deepest sleep 
js entirely unconscious, and that all our dreams 
belong to the jiliose of gradual return to the 
waking state, -rhis is not, however, proved by 
the fact that we seem only to remember dreams 
which immediately precede waking. For it is a 
common experience to wake, like Nebuchadnezzar 
(Dn 2), with the IJrm conviction that we have had 
a striking dream which we are totally unable to 
recall. In such cases, it often happens that the 
lost dream is suddenly remembered towards the 
evening. The cognate facts of hypnotism also show 



the fallacy of arguing that an interval from which 
we can recall nothing must have been one in which 
we were aware of nothing. Whether ' the mind 
thinks always,' as Descartes and Leibniz maintain 
and I^ocke denies, must, for want of evidence, be 
left an open question. 

One of the most curious features of the dream 
is the modification of the central personality of 
the dreamer which not infrequently occurs. We 
dream that we are committing, with a light heart, 
misdemeanours or even crimes which would be 
impossible to us in waking life. Or a man may 
dream that he is a woman (or vice versa), and the 
as.sumed r61e may be kept up throughout the 
dream with remarkable dramatic verisimilitude. 
Or one may assume, for the purposes of the dream, 
the personality of some familiar historical char- 
acter, such as Mary Stuart or Oliver Cromwell. 
Or, again, if the present writer can trust his 
analysis of his own dreams, the sense of individual 
personality may be temporarily completely sub- 
merged ; the dreamer may drop out of the list of 



dramatis persorue of his dream, which then ap- 

Eroximates very closely to Schopenhauer's ' wiU- 
sss intuition.' The reverse process seems also to 



occur. One may begin by dreaming that he is 
reading or hearin" a story of adventure, and may 
then unconsciously become the hero of the inci- 
dents dreamed of. Similarly, in the common type 
of dream in which we are transported back into 
the time of our childhood, we usually assume a 
suitable personality. We think and feel as chil- 
dren, not as our adult selves. Presumably these 
shif tings of personalitjr, which may fairly be called 
examples of ' altematmg personality,' are immedi- 
ately due to a passing change in the mass of 
Gemcingefuhl, or general organic sensation. They 
may be compared with similar modifications insti- 
tuted by hypnotic suggestion or by the direct 
introduction of toxic substances into the nervous 
system. 

2. In Greek literature. — The belief in the Divine 
and prophetic character of dreams is universal 
throughout Greek literature. In the classical 
language the exposition of dreams is regularly sub- 
sumed under yumK-li, as one special province of the 
art of the fidvris, or seer. Aeschylus, writing early 
in the 5th cent. , when the rise of ' Sophistic ' was 
giving a special impetus to the glorification of 
' culture heroes,' includes the discovery of the rules 
of oneiromancy among the chief things for which 
mankind are indebted to Prometheus {Prom. 
Vinct. 485 : Kixpiya Trpwros <| dveipiruy S xph I (*Top 
yeviadai, kt\.). In Homer the sender of dreams 
is Zeus ; it is, e.g., he who directly dispatches the 
lying dream to Agamemnon in Iliad, ii. 5 ff. 
[Homer regards dreams as actual beings ; there is 
a ' jieople of dreams ' on the dim path to the land 
of the dead (Orf. xxiv. 12). In the case of Aga- 
memnon's false dream, Nestor says : ' Had any 
other of the Achseans told us this dream, we might 
deem it a false thing and rather turn away there- 
from ; but now he hath seen it who of all Achajans 
avoweth himself the greatest ' {II. ii. 80-83). As 
the over-lord, in Homer, is lord by the will of 
Zeus, he is apparently supposed (without much 
positiveness) to receive from Zeus counsel in 
dreams, while other men's dreams are of no 
account, unless, indeed, some accepted 6yeipoir6\os, 
or dealer in dreams, accredits them. The word 
occui-s but once in Homer {II. i. 63 : ' some sooth- 
sayer or interi)reter of dreams, for dream, too, is 
from Zeus'). In parts of Australia the natives 
believe that a supernatural being, ' Kntchi of the 
Dieri, Bunjil of the Wurunjerri, or Daramnlun of 
the Coast Murring,' may visit the medicine-man 
in dream or vision and reveal to him matters of 
importance (Howitt, Native Tribes of S.E. Am- 



DBBAMS AND SLEEP (Introductory) 



SI 



tralia, London, 1904, p. 89). The dream-visitant 
may also be a ghost ; the dreamer then consults 
the niedieine-man, who pronounces on the merits 
of the vision {ib. 434). — A. Lang.] 

Elsewliere in Greece we find traces of a cruder 
and more primitive belief. In Hesiod's Theogony 
(211-213), Night gives birth, without father, to 
• Doom and black Weird and Death and Sleep 
and the family of Dreams ' ; elsewhere it is Earth 
who produces prophetic visions of the future 
(Eurip. Iphig. in Tauris, 1261 f. : vixKix^^" i^eKvib- 
aaro <f>d<Tfjuir' ireipav). This suggests that the 
original view was that the prophetic character of 
the dreams got at certain spots, such as Delphi, 
was due to the inherent virtues of the locality 
itself ; the later and more refined theory was that 
the dreams are directly inspired by the god to 
whom the seat of prophecy is consecrated. Thus 
the oracle of Delphi came into the possession of 
Apollo, and Apollo, besides revealing the future 
through the mouth of his ' inspired prophetess, 
is the great sender of veridical visions and dreams. 
It is he who in Aeschylus hounds Orestes on to 
his revenge by threats conveyed perhaps in hor- 
rible dreams, and prepares the way for the enter- 
prise by sending the dream which Clytaemnestra 
misinterprets as signifying her son's death. Simi- 
larly the practice of obtaining prescriptions for 
ailments by incubation {i.e. by dreaming on a spot 
of special and proved prophetic virtue) is, in his- 
torical times, peculiarly under the patronage of 
Asclepius, and his great temple at Epidaurus is 
the most famous of the sanctuaries at which such 
dream prescriptions could be received. It was 
usual for the god in person to ' appear in a 
dream ' to the patient and dictate the remedy, or 
even leave it behind him. When we remember 
that there was a widely circulated popular scien- 
tific literature of medical works addressed to the 
lay-public and containing directions for diet and 
exercise, and prescriptions for common disorders, 
■we can readily understand the considerable repute 
obtained by sanatoria of this kind. Apart from 
these ^eat sanctuaries, there were also private 
professional exponents of the science of interpret- 
ing dreams (dvetpoKpiToi), who were regularly at 
the service of the credulous. Thus Theophrastus 
(Charact. xvi. 11) notes it a.s characteristic of the 
SfurLialiJiwv, or divot, that, ' when he sees a dream, 
he goes to the dveipoKpirai, the yndvreis, or the augurs 
{dfiviSoffKiroi), to ask to what god, male or female, 
he should offer prayer.' There were also, as with 
ourselves, handtx>oKs of the science, for private 
nse, one of which, that of Artemidorus, belonging 
to the 2nd cent. A.D., has come down to us. Even 
apart from the performance of special ritual purifi- 
cations (diroSioiro/iiTjjffeis) to avert the fulfilment of 
evil dreams, it was held an effectual method of 
banishing them, as of baulking the effect of evil 
forebodings generally, to come out into the open 
air and ' tell them to the sky,' as Iphigenia does 
with her sinister dream in Euripides {Iphig. in 
Tauris, 42 : A Kaivk S' iJKei vO^ (p^povcra tpdafxara \ X^f w 
rpit aWip' tl Ti iT\ r65' tar' 4<cos). The same remedy 
could be practised against presages of evil of any 
kind, as is done, e.g., by the nurse of Medea in 
the prologue to that play (Eurip. Med. 57 f. : 
tfupit ji! incTiKOe yfn rk Koipavwi | X^fat /uoXouffiji devpo 
tt(riroli'r]s Tvxat). The complete ritual further in- 
volved purification of the bedroom and the dreamer 
with torches and hot water (cf. the burlesque of 
the performance in Aristophanes, Frogs, 1338 : 
dXXd fioi AfupltroXoi 'Kvxvov S.:l/aTe \ Kii\Trtai t' iK irora- 
Hwv ipicov Apart, Bipnert 8' Mup, \ uis iy Oeiov tueipoy 
iwoKKiouj). 

The belief in the Divine and prophetic nature of 
dreams plays an inijiortant part in the Orphic 
religion and its descendant, the Pythagorean philo- 



sophy. The familiar Orphic doctrines, that the 
body is the ' grave ' of the soul, and that it is only 
when free from the body that the soul awakes to 
its true life, led naturally to the view that in sleep 
the soul converses with eternal things and receives 
communications from Heaven to which it is not 
accessible by day. This doctrine is specially pro- 
minent in I'indar and Aeschylus — poets who stood 
in specially close connexion with Sicily, one of the 
chief homes of Orphicism and Pythagoreanism. 
Thus Pindar says in a well-known passage from 
the ep^i-ot (fr. 131, ed. Schroder) tiiat the soul 
' slumbers while the body is active ; but, when the 
body slumbers, she shows forth in many a vision 
the approaching issues of woe and weal ' (iv iroXXois 
ivelpois I belKvvai Tepiryuv itpipirmaav x'^^^'"''^" " 
Kpl<nv) ; and Aeschylus {Eumen. 104) declares that 
' in slumber the eye of the soul waxes bright, but 
by daytime man's doom goes unforeseen ' (euSowro 
7Ap (pp^v bfifiaaiv 'Kap.irpvviTai, \ iv 7]fi^pai 5^ /iotp iwpd- 
(TKoiros PporHv). So in the speech of Diotima in 
Plato's Symposium (which is demonstrably Orphic 
in its origin) we are told that it is through the 
agency of Eros (himself an Orphic figure) that the 
' communion and converse of gods with men is 
effected, for the sleeping as well as the waking' 
{Symp. 203 A). In Aeschylus we further find in 
several passages a sort of simple naive psycho- 
logical theory of the machinery of these prophetic 
dream-s, which is apparently based on the doctrine 
of the physicist and Orphic prophet Empedocles, 
that ' the blood surrounding the heart is tnat with 
which we think ' (oi/xa ylip ivOpiiiron TepiKdpSidv itrri 
vinriiia). The soul is represented as sitting in the 
heart, like a puii'Tis in the prophetic chair, and 
reading off' the visions presented in the blood that 
drips before it, just as the modem 'scryer' reads 
oft' the pictures m his crystal (Agamcm. 178 : (rrdfei 
5' iv 6' ihrfun irpii Kapdla^ | ^vqaiir^p.uv tovos ; 975 : 
Tlm-e HOI ToS' i/iiriSios | deifia irpoo-rarijpiov | KapSlas 
TtpaffKOTTOv voTciTaL, [ . . . ovd^ dTTOirT^tras [tKl. djro- 
XTva-ai] iUav \ SvcKplrav dveipdruv, \ Odpaos eiinBii tf« 
ipptvbi <f>i\op dpovov [where (?) read dwoirriKrav and 
render : ' Confidence dares not spit it away like a 
riddling dream and take its wonted seat in my 
soul '] ; the 0p6yot is not, as in the curiously 
parallel line of Shakespeare, 'My bosom's lord 
sits lightly in his throne ' [Romeo and Juliet, 
V. i. 3], that of a monarch, but that of a seer or 
prophet). Presumably the reason why the soul 
can ' scry ' in nightly dreams only, is that by day 
its attention is diverted from the figures formed 
in the at/ta wepiKdpSiof by the sights of the outer 
world. The Orphic doctrine of prophetic dreams 
was apparently, like the rest of Orphicism, refined 
and spiritualized in Pythagoreanism. lamblichus 
refers more than once to the moral discipline exer- 
cised by Pythagoras over the sleeping and dream 
life of the Order. In particular, lie tells us that 
it was the custom of the Society to prepare for 
sleep by listening to tranquillizing music, with the 
effect that their unruly passions were stilled, th6ir 
sleep light, their dreams few and happy and pro- 
phetic {Vila Pythag. §§ 65, 114). Some writers 
regarded the famous tabu on beans as intended to 
banish bad dreams. 

A similar theory re-appears in Plato, Republic, 
571 C ff., where Socrates maintains that the dreams 
of the good man are pure and prophetic, because 
even in sleep the lower elements in his soul retain 
their subjection and leave the noblest element to 
lead a free and unfettered life of its own. Since 
the Timaeus (71 DIV.) sets a much lower value on 
dreams, maintaining that in them revelations are 
made only to the lower and irrational nature, and 
that the revelation requires subsequent interpre- 
tation by reason to be properly understood, the 
theory of the Republic is presumably one held by 



32 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Introductory) 



the actual Socrates but not shared by I'lato. 
Even the account of the Tiiiuievs may possibly 
represent views current amonK the Pythagoreans 
of the lat« 6th cent., to which Plato would not 
have wholly subscribed. It should be noted that 
the famous dreams ascribed to Socrates in the Onto 
and the Phaedo are clearly of Orphic- Pythagorean 
provenance. The vision which warned Socrates 
that the trireme had left Delos and would reach 
Athens on the morrow is manifestly the ' fetch ' of 
the l>oat itself, which is just leavmg the island, 
and is sent therefore by Apollo of Delos, the great 

dof Pythagoreanism. The other vision, which 
e Socrates ' practise music,' clearly comes from 
the same source, as he obeyed it by composing a 
pa-an to the Delian Apollo (Diog. Laert. ii. 42). 
From the Academy the doctrine of Pythagoreanism 
about prophetic dreams would appear to have 
passed to the Stoics ; hence we find Zeno advising 
his followers to use their dreams as a test of 
their advance towards virtue (Plutarch, de Profect. 
in Virt. 12 ; von Amim, Fragmenta Stoicot-um, 
Leipzig, 1905, i. 66 : •^{iou yi.p diri twc dvelpuv iKaaroy 
airrou avyaur0dve(r6ai itpoKovTovToi, kt\.). 

A. E. Taylor. 

3. Savage and modern dreams.— These Greek 
beliefs or theories, like most of our theories on 
such matters, are only more artificial statements 
of the conclusions of savage reasoners. 'The 
Narrang-ga think that the human spirit can leave 
the body in sleep, and comnumicate with the 
spirits of others [telepathy] or of the dead ' (Howitt, 
434). The sleep of the body is the holiday of the 
spirit, which, in sleep, as after death, can ascend 
to the spiritual place above the sky, and is free 
from the bonds of time and space. 

Among ourselves, people tell us that they have 
seen unknown places in dreams, and have later 
come to and recognized them in scenes which they 
had never before visited in the body. In the same 
way Howitt writes (p. 436) : 

' A Mukjorawaint inaa t»ld me that liis father came to him in 
a dream, and said that he must look out for himself, else he 
would be killed. This saved him, because he afterwards came 
to the place which he had seen in the dream, and turned lack 
to where his friends lived, so that his enemies, who might have 
been waiting for him, did not catch him' (p. 435). One of the 
Kumai tribe, being asked ' whether he really thought that his 
Tambo [spirit] could "go out" when he was asleep . . . said, 
" It must be so, for when I sleep I go to distant places, I see 
distant people, I even see and speak with those who are dead." ' 
These experiences and this philosophy of the 
experiences are common to most races in the lower 
culture (see E. B. Tylor, Prim. Cult.*, 1903, vol. i. 
pp. 397-400). The belief in the interpretation is, 
of course, reinforced by what Tylor calls ' double 
narrative!},'. namely those in which the experience 
is mutual. A dreams of B, B (awake or asleep) 
Bees A in the circumstances of the dream. 



Tylor quotes St. Augustine (de Civ. Dei, xviii. 18) for a story 

dl - ■ ' " 

, saw a philosopher of his 

lie pas 
viously declined to elucidate. * I did not do it,' said the philo- 



told to the saint by a friend. 

sleep, saw a philosopher of his acquaintance, who came 



This gentleman, before going to 

I philosopher of bis acquaintance, who came to him 

»nd" exy>ounaed certain Platonic passages which he had pre- 



aopber, when questioned, * but I dreamt I did.' In another case 
a student in Africa was * coached ' in some Latin ditliculties by 
Angustine, who was in Italy. But Augustine did not dream, or 
did not remember dreaming, anything about the matter (de 
Cura pro Mortuis, x-xii ; Ep. clvhi.). 

There are many modern tales of this ' mutual ' 
experience. One may be mentioned which was 
written out and signed by the dreamer and his 
mother, who was in the house at the time of the 
events : 

The Rev. Mr. B. fell asleep in his club, in Princes Street, 
Edinburgh. He dreamed that he was late for dinner, and that 
he went home to the house of his father. Sir .John H., in Aber- 
oromby Place. He could not open the door with Jiis latoh-key, 
bat it was openul by his fattier. He then ran upHtairs, and, 
looking down from the first landing, saw his father below gazing 
after him. He then awoke, found that he wa« in his club, and 
that the hour was ten minutes to midnight. He hurried home, 
and found the front door bolted. His father opene<l it and said, 
•Where have you been? Yon came in ten minutes ago and 
lan upstairs; where liavs you been sines t' Like the Platonic 



philosopher of St Augustine's tale, Mr. B. answered, 'I did 
not do 11, but I dreamt I did.' Sir John B. was dead when the 
written narrative signed by Mr. B. and I«dy B. was oom- 
municaterl to the writer. Other cases, equally well attested 
(by Bve witnesses on one occasion, and by the dreamer) might 
be given, but enough has been said bo illustrate this mutual 
type of experience. 

It is clear that primitive thinkers could explain 
their dream experiences only by the belief in an 
indwelling spirit of each man ; and, when the 
dream proved to be ' clairvoyant ' (as of a place not 
previously seen, but later found), or 'mutual,' the 
theory would be corroborated. Persons with such 
experiences must inevitably arrive at the con- 
ception of spirits, both incarnate and discamate, 
and manifestly this belief has been one of the most 
potent influences in the evolution of religion. As 
Tylor says {op. cit. p. 445), speculation passed 
'from the earlier conviction that a disembodied 
soul really comes into the presence of the sleeper' 
(or of persons wide-awake) ' toward the later 
opinion that such a phantasm is produced in the 
dreamer's mind ' (or in the mind of the wide-awake 
observer) ' without the perception of any external 
objective figure.' 

There are, practically, the two hypotheses : (1) of 
an 'astral Ixxly,' a real space-filling entity; and 
(2) of ' telepathic impact.' But rationalistic, if not 
reasonable, thinkers will dismiss both hypotheses 
as figments made to account for events which never 
occurred. These varieties of opinion, however, do 
not concern us ; we merely remark that dreams 
(with other psychical experiences) account for the 
animistic or spiritual element in religion. 

A man's dream ' comes true ' ; he finds that 
what he saw in dream was, though he had no 
normal means of knowing it, true in reality ; he 
therefore infers : ' something within me can go out 
of me and wander into places where I have never 
been.' A modern instance, narrated to the writer 
by the dreamer, may be given : 

At a ball in Stirling, some fifteen years ago, several persons 
were poisoned by eating ill-conditioned oysters, and some died. 
The husband of the narrator was among the sufferers. On 
becoming aware of his condition, he wrote and fastened up two 
letters to two different firms of stockbrokers in Glasgow, which 
his wife posted. On the night of his funeral she dreamed, and 
told the dream to a sister-in-law who slept with her, that she 
went to two different offices in Glasgow, and in each saw an 
open ledger, and on a page in each her husband's name at the 
head of a long list of curious names, of which she mentioned a 
tew. They were the designations of mines in the Transvaal. 
At the foot of each page figures were written showing the state 
of the account. In one the loss was smaller, in the other 
larger ; the amount was something over £3000. The lady had 
no idea that her husband was speculating till she saw the 
addresses of his letters to the stockbrokers, and, on seeing 
these, before his death she wrote to them, asking them to 
wind up affairs. To abbreviate— her dream, unhappily, proved 
exactly correct. . „ . .. . 

The interpretation by a professor of psychology m a Scottish 
University is that the' speculator had often told his wife all 
about his dealings in gold mines, but that she had never 
listened, and the information, till revived in a dream, slumbered 
unknown in her subconsciousness. But a primitive thinker 
could not possibly hit on this theory, which, in fact, did not 
commend itself as possible to the dreamer. 

When a dream discloses/u^ure events, it produces 
a great impression on many minds, and in un- 
scientific ages is explained as a Divine revelation. 
The Homeric explanation, that true dreams come 
througli the gate of horn, false dreams through 
the ivory gate, is based merely on a pun in tlie 
Greek. We now account for prophetic dreams in 
the mass by saying that, out of so many shots as 
our dream-selves make, it would be a miracle if 
none hit the bull's eye. Moreover, even if a dream, 
later fulfilled, is recorded contemporaneously, or 
impels to action taken on the moment, the theory 
of mere fortuitous coincidence is applied ; while 
every one knows that, in telling a dream, we 
almost inevitably give rational shaping to what 
wtvs not rational, and, generally, decorate the 
anecdote. The number of dreams about winners 
of any great horse race is so great that some must 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Babylonian) 



33 



coincide with the result. In one curious case the 
explanation is easy. 

An Eton friend asked Colonel A. B., ' What is the Latin name 
for the south-west wind ? ' ' Favonius,' was the answer. ' I 
dreamed that a horse with the Latin name of the south-west 
wind won the Derby, but, when I wakened, I could not re- 
member the Latin name.' The friends found no Favonius in 
the betting, and n^jne, on the Derby day, was coloured on the 
card. But it was announced that ' the Zephyr colt ' had just 
been named Favonius. The friends naturally backed Favonius, 
which won. It is clear that the well-known Zephyr (west 
wind) colt had, in the dream, suggested the south-west wind 
by its Latin name, which, when awake, the dreamer could not 
remember. 

Another explanation of a fulfilled dream is that 
the dream was never dreamt, but was an illusion 
of memory. 

Thus Mr. F. W. Greenwood published and spoke to the writer 
about a dream of going into a strange house, and finding a 
human hand on a chimney-piece. He did, next day, visit at 
a house in which he had never been before ; he had forgotten 
about his dream till he noticed the hand of a mummy on the 
chimney-piece. When told that, in all probability, he had 
never dreamed the dream, but only had a sense of the d^jd vu 
when he saw the hand, and supposed that * the previously seen ' 
had been seen in a dream, Air. Greenwood, a man of sturdy 
common sense, revolted against the methods of science. This 
was not unnatural. 

It frequently happens that, in the course of the 
day, sonje trivial incident reminds us, by associa- 
tion of ideas, of some trivial last night's dream 
which we had temporarily forgotten. In such 
cases science does not say that we are under the 
sense of the dijd vu : that explanation is given 
only in cases where, if it is not given, a dream 
must be recognized as premonitory. 

An interesting essay on premonitions in dreams, 
with examples, by Mrs. Henry Sidgwick, may be 
read in Proceedings of the Society for Psychical 
Research, vol. v. pp. 311-351. The objections are 
firmly stated in general terras ; especially the 
objection that memory, if no record be instantly 
made, improyes the case, while the memory of 
any person to whom the dream was nanated 
before the coincidence of dream with fact was 
known is as subject to error as that of the 
narrator. It will be observed that perhaps the 
best authenticated premonitory dreams are con- 
cerned with quite trivial matters, for example 
(this case is not given by Mrs. Sidgwick), a series 
of incidents in a golf match played on links and 
with an opponent both entirely strange to the 
dreamer at the time of the dream. (For examples, 
see Mrs. Sidgwick's essay, pp. 338, 339, 343, 346- 
351.) 

A dream, communicated to the writer at first hand. Is 
picturesque, and may be briefly told. The dreamer one night 
dreamed that she was in Piccadilly. The street was covered 
with snow, and a black sleigh was driven quickly past. Looking 
round, she saw the late Duke of Edinburgh, with whom she 
was acqoAinted. He said, ' They are taking the news to Clarence 
House. The following day she retvl in the newspaper the news 
of the murder o( the Duke's father-in-law, Alexander ii. of 
Russia. 

This aspect of dreams (if the facts are accepted) 
may, of coarse, be viewed from the side of ft^ers' 
theory of 'the subliminal self,' ajs stated in his 
book. Human Personality (1903). By those who 
accept, more or less, Myers' hypothesis some 
dreams are taken to be 'supernormal,' and bear 
witness to unexplained ranges of human faculty. 
In other ca.ses they merely show that incidents 
which have left no trace on the ordinary memory 
are none the less treasured in the subconscious 
memory, and may be communicated to the upper 
con.sciousnesa through the mechanism of remem- 
bered dreams. If no men dreamed, it is probable 
that religion and philosophy might never have 
evolved tlie conception of spirit ; while, if only 
five per cent of mankind dreamed, it is fairly 
certain that the other ninety-five per cent would 
regard them as merely mendacious. 

LiTMiTHRi.— For a full bibliography, sefl Baldwin's DPhP, 
vol. iii. pt. 1 t.m. 'Dream' and 'Sleep'; of. also W. Volk- 
1 von VoUcmar, Lthrbtush der P$yehoi.', Cothen, 2 vols. 
VOL. V, — 3 



1884-5 : W. Wundt, Gnindzilge der physiol. Psychol.^, Leipzig, 
3 vols. 1902 ; Aristotle, Parva Naturalia, ed. W. Biehl, Leipzig, 
1898 ; the works of Aristotle, Eng. tr. (general editors, J. A. 
Smith and W. D. Ross), pt. i. Parva Naturalia (tr. of de Somno, 
de Somniis, de Divinatione per Somnurn, by J. I. Beare), 
Oxford, 1908; J. I. Beare, Gr, Theories of Elementary Cofjnitimi 
from Alcmaeoil to Aristotle, Oxford, 1906; Mary Hamilton, 
Incubation, or the Cure of Disease in Pagan Temples and 
Christian Churches, London, 1906. jV. LaNG. 

DREAMS AND SLEEP (Babylonian).— The 
dream played an important part in the life and 
religion of the Babylonians. In the dream the 
deity was believed to reveal himself in a special 
way to the individual, declaring the will of heaven 
and predicting the future. The bdrtl, or ' seers,' 
constituted a particular class of priests, and one 
of the titles or the Sun-god was Mru terHi, ' the 
seer of the revealed law.' Prophetic dreams, how- 
ever, might be sent to the ordinary layman as well 
as to the professional ' seer,' and there were books 
for interpreting their meaning. It would seem 
that answers to prayer could be obtained througli 
sleeping in a temple and invoking Makliir, the 
goddess (or god) of dreams. At all events, in a 
penitential psalm {WAI, iv. 66. 2) we read: 
' Reveal thyself to me and let me behold a favour- 
able dream. May the dream that I dream be 
favourable ; may the dream that I dream be true. 
May Makhir, the god(des8) of dreams, stand at my 
head. Let me enter E-Saggila, the temple of the 
gods, the house of life.' The little temple dis- 
covered by Mr. Hormuzd Rassam at Balawdt (15 
miles E. of Mosul) was specially dedicated to 
Makhir, and may have been frequented by those 
who thus sought ' favourable ' dreams. 

In the Epic of Gilgames dreams play a con- 
spicuous part. In the struggle of the Babylonian 
hero with Khumbaba three dreams are needed to 
assure him of success. The loss of his friend Ea- 
bani is foretold in a vision of fire and lightning, 
and in the story of the Deluge the impending 
destruction of mankind was said to have been 
revealed to Utu-napistim in a dream. The his- 
torical inscriptions are equally full of references 
to dreams. The wUl of heaven was made known 
to Gudea of Lagas througli a dream, and the army 
of Assur-bani-pal was encouraged to cross a river 
by the appearance in a vision of the goddess Istar, 
wlio declared : ' I march before As.sur-bani-pal the 
king, who is the creation of my hands.' Assur- 
bani-pal himself, when overwhelmed with despair at 
the outbreak of the war with Elam, was similarly 
reassured with a promise of victory. He prayed 
to Istar, and on the self-same night ' a seer (saorH) 
slept and dreamed a dream,' wherein Istar of 
Aroela appeared with a quiver on either shoulder 
and a bow in her hand, and bade the dreamer 
announce to the king: 'Eat food, drink wine, 
enjoy music, exalt my divinity until I have gone 
to accomplish this deea : I will give thee thy heart's 
desire ; thy face sliall not grow pale, thy feet shall 
not totter, thv strength shall not fail in the battle.' 
It was in a dream that Assur commanded Gyges 
of Lydia to pay homage to the Assyrian king and 
so obtain help against his Cimmerian enemies, and 
the prediction that the power of the Manda would 
be overthrown, as well as the order to rebuild 
the temple of the Moon-god at Harran, was re- 
vealed to Nalxjnidos in a dream. In the historical 
framework of the Book of Daniel the dreams of 
Nebuchadrezzar occupy a leading place, and in one 
instance the wise men of Babylon were required 
not only to interpret the dream, but even to recall 
it to the memory of the king. 

Oneiromanoy waa studied by the Babylonians 
with that exaggerated devotion to details which 
otherwise characterized them. The official texts 
relating to the interpretation of dreams took note 
of everything, however bizarre or unlikely, which 



M 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Egyptian) 



might oooar to the imagination of the sleeper. 
These texts or ' Dream-books,' which were probably 
oolleoted in a single work, were naturally includeu 
by A8«ur-bani-]>al in his library at Niuoveh, and 
formed the quarry from which Arteniidorus drew 
the materials for his fi%'e books of the Oneirocritica. 
The nature of them may be gathered from the 
following quotations : ' If a date appears on a man's 
b(»d, it means woe. If a fish appears on his head, 
that man will be strong. If a mountain appears 
on his head, it means that he will have no rival. 
If salt appears on his head, it means that he will 
apply himself to build his house.' Or, again : ' If 
a man dreams that he poes to a pleasure-garden, 
it means that he will gain his freedom. If Le goes 
to a market-garden, his dwelling-place will be un- 
comfortable. If he goes to kindle a firebrand, he 
will see woe during (his) days. If he goes to sow 
a field, he will escape from a ruined place. If he 
goes to hunt in the country, he will be eminent (T). 
If he goes to an ox-stall, [lie will have] safety. If 
he goes to the sheepfold, he will rise to the first 
rank.' Could a pseudo-science end in greater 
puerilities? 

LiTBRATURK. — A. Boissier, Choix de textes rehiU/s d la 
divination an&yro-bahyUniiemie^ ii., Geneva, 1906: F. Lenor- 
mant. La Divination et la science de» presaga chez Ut Chat- 
dienij Paris, 1875, pp. 127-149; Artemidorus Daldianus, 
Oneiroeritiea, ed. Rein, 1805. A. H. SayCE. 

DREAMS AND SLEEP (Egyptian). — i. 
Introduction. — Although dreams were not con- 
sidered of such importance in Egypt as in 
Chaldiea, Phoenicia, or the Hellenic world, the 
rOle allocated to them was much larger than is 
generally thought ; they occupied a constant place 
in Egyptian life. The relative scarcity of informa- 
tion is a result of the nature of the monuments 
at present published. While the epigraphy of the 
temples furnishes only a very few official examples 
of dreams, we find (1) that, in spite of this scarcity, 
dreams are of constant occurrence in the literary 

Sapyri; and (2) that the instances of Egyptian 
reams mentioned by late authors are proved by 
a correct exegesis to be of Egyptian origin. These 
two points give us ground for thinking that the 
decipnering of the still unpublished {Mvpyri and 
ostraea will yield an unknown wealth of informa- 
tion. Further, the study of unpublished ex voto 
steloe ought, to all appearance, to furnish large 
additions to the list of cases of miraculous healing 
obtained by the medium of dreams. If to all this 
we add the passages in our sources in which dreams 
are not expressly mentioned, but are implied by the 
fact that formuliB are employed similar to those 
used in cases of dreams related expressly as such, 
we are forced to the conclusion that the current 
ideas as to the frequency and importance of dreams 
in Egypt stand in need of con.siderable modification. 

2. Classification of material. — Dreams in which 
the gods intervene directly may be divided into 
three groups : (a) unsolicited dreams in which they 
appear in order to demand some act of piety towartfs 
themselves ;(i) dreams in which they give warnings 
of various kinds spontaneously ; and (c) dreams in 
which they grant their worshipjiers an answer to a 
question delinitely stated. The cases of unofficial 
magic forcing dreams into its service form a sei>arate 
class. 

Thi« claMiflcation Han the advantat^e of arranjring the facts in 
ft fixed number of fc.-oniw, which brina into (;reater prominence 
the easeDCiftlly Kgyptian charw^UTisdca, and so help to decide 
whether a certain number of dreams mentioned in the Greek 
and Roman rdassics can be ref^rdod as really Egyptian This 
is an important question to settle tor the fireaenU theorr at 
dreams. ' 

3. Unsolicited dreams — Of this first class the 
well-known dream of Thothmes IV. is the best 
H|)ecimen coiilaiued in our sources. Falling asleep, 
during the chase, at the foot of the statue of the 



Great Sphinx, the young prince heard the voice of 
a god. It promised him tlie throne of Egypt, and 
required him to repair the god's temi>le, which was 
threatened with ruin. This story leaves no doubt 
that the dream of Nectanebo, though handed down 
to us in Greek form (cf. Leemans, I'apyri Orceci, 
Leyden, 1838, p. 122), is an adaptation of an Egyp- 
tian document. As in the case of Thothmes iv., 
the god (under the form Anhuri) appeared to the 
king, and complained of the failure to complete 
certain works at his temple. On waking, the King 
was greatly perturbed, and gave the necessary 
orders to have the works comweted with all expe- 
dition. It is quite certain that this Uellenized 
legend sprang from the remains of a stela, like 
that of tlie Sphinx of Gizeh, on which the priests 
had had an account engraved of the marvellous 
incident that caused the repairing of the temple. 

The case reported by Plutarch (de Is. et Osir. 28) 
of the dream of Ptolemy Soter belongs to the same 
category. The king dreams of a colossal statue 
which orders him to take it back to Alexandria, 
where it was formerly situated. He makes in- 
quiries on awaking, and finds that Sosebius had 
once seen an image at Sinope like the one described 
by the king as seen in his dream. The statue, in 
snort, is found there, and brought back to Alex- 
andria ; and Timotheus, as well as Manetho, recog- 
nizes it as one of Serapis. Here we see a Helleuized 
adaptation of Egyptian legends relating to the 
repair of monuments and the restoration of cults 
of Divine statues ; and this is in complete harmony 
with the historical fact that the Ptolemys took 
a great deal of trouble to bring back the national 
sacred statues which had been carried oil' from the 
Nile Valley by Asiatic conquerors. 

The question of the absolute authenticity of these documents 
cannot be discussed here. It was proved long ago that the 
majority of these 8tel» devoted to dreams, miracles, and gifta 
made after Divine intervention bear inscriptions of a much 
later date than is attributed to them {e.g., the Stela of Cheops 
at Gizeh, the Stela *of the Famine,' Stela of Bakhtan, etc. ; the 
Stela of the Sphinx, in particular, has been shown by Erman to 
be a new version of an analogous legend attributing an identi<^ 
dream to another prince). It still remains to be proved, how- 
ever, that these 'forged' documents are not adaptations of 
ancient inscriptions or transcriptions on stone of ancient jrapjTi. 
The only imjx)rtant facts to be kept in view here are : (1) that 
ofticial Kg^-pt admitted as a regular process this method of 
Divine warnings by dreams ; (2) that numerous restorations of 
temples and cults were really the outcome of dreams actually 
exiterienced, an<t accepted by the king, on awaking, as certain 
signs of the will of the gods. An examination of the otiicial 
texts relating to the restorations of monuments would show, by 
the parallelism of formula}, that these cases are much more 
numerous in £g}'pt than is usually supposed. 

Besides coses like the above, in which the gods 
may be said to have been working primarily in tlieir 
own interests, unsolicited dreams were granted also 
for the benefit of humanity. The revelation by a 
dream of the hiding-place of some wonderful chap- 
ter, for use in funerary or medical magic, seems to 
have been the traditional origin of a number of 
formula; or groups of formula) inserte«l later in the 
great compilations which became the 'Books of 
the Dead' and the first medical papyri. All that 
the gods of Egypt did in such circum-stances was 
to show the continuity of their legendary rfile of 
' beneficent masters of this whole earth. Their 
intervention sometimes took an even more direct 
form, warnings being given by dreams to the 
kings, who were the Divine heirs, or to important 
personages, princes, or even simple mortals loved 
by the gods. Sometimes they revealed the action 
to be taken in the man's own interest. It is, e.g., 
in obedience to a dream that Shabaka (Sabacos) 
retires into Ethiopia (Herod, ii. 139). Sometimes 
they foretell final success, without requiring, as 
in the case of Thothmes IV. , a jjersonal service in 
exchange. 

The famous Ethiopian Stela *ot the Dream' is the typical 
example of this class. We are told bow Tonutamon * sees in a 
dream in the night two serpents, one on the left, one on thft 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Egyptian) 



ii 



right,' and how it was explained on his awaking that these 
two serpents sijfnified the heraldic emblems of the two Egypts 
(Nortli and South) of which he would soon be master. 

In other cases the gods do not scorn to foretell 
happy events to certain persons In whom or in 
whose descendants they are particularly inter- 
ested — perhaps with a view to the good that will 
result for the whole of Egypt. The story of Satni, 
father of the great magician Senosiris, is an ex- 
ample : 

' Now Satni went to sleep and dreame<l a dream. Some one 
spoke to him, saying : "Thy wife hath conceived, and the child 
she will bear will be called Senosiris, and many are the niiracles 
that will be done by him in the land of Egypt." ' 

Sometimes, again, a dream directly reveals the 
wish of a god. Thus the prince of Bakhtan saw in 
his sleep a hawk ilying away towards Egypt ; this 
was a sign that he had to send back to Thebes the 
miraculous statue of the god Khonsu, which had 
formerly exorcized a demon from his daughter. 
Sometimes, also, the Divine spirit warns the king 
in a dream to avoid certain projects, either imme- 
diate or far aliead, wliich would turn out harmful 
to the kingdom. However adapted they may 
be in non-Egyptian compositions, the dream of 
Menander and Pharaoh's dream (interpreted by 
Joseph [Gn 41]) are two good examples, the con- 
stituent elements of which are similar to those of 
Egyptian accounts of such Divine warnings. 

The first of these stories hag come down to us in fragments 
of a Coptic romance — the fabulous Ijfe of Alexander : * Then 
Menander had the following dream, and saw this vision ; he saw 
a lion loaded with chains and cast into a pit. A man spoke to 
hira: "Menander, why dost thou not descend with this lion, 
since his purple is fallen ? Get thee up now, and seize him by 
the neck of his purple." Menander's grief at this dream, and his 
conviction that the lion signified his master, were not mistaken 
— in the morning a messenger announced the death of Alexander 
at treacherous hands.' It is highly probable that, if the legend 
is of late Egyptian date, it borrowed its general form from the 
ordinary type of historical dreams attributed to the Pharaohs of 
national legend. 

The same remark applies to the Scripture story of the dream 
of Pharaoh, and the part played by Joseph. In the present 
state of our knowledge, we cannot assert that this episode 
belongs to any particular reign in the Egyptian dynasties, nor 
even that it belongs, for a fact, to some authentic fragment of 
the national folk-lore relating to the legend of the Pharaohs of 
the romantic cycle. But Egyptolog}' is in a position to state 
with assurance that none of the elements of the story is a priori 
in conflict with the Egyptian data relating to dreams. We know 
from history that the subject itself (the periods of drought and 
fertility resulting from the annual overflowing of the Nile) was 
one of the chief mterests of the Egyptian monarchy ; the famous 
Bt£la of the island of Sehel (the ' Famine Stela *), e.g., is evidence 
that factfi of this kind were of great importance in monumental 
religious history, where the ^ods and the kings both witnessed 
to the vital importance of this matter — the former by warnings, 
the latter by acts of piety. The symbolic method of warning, 
in the flgures of fat and lean kine or ears of com. Is analogous 
to that of the serpents in the Ethiopian * Dreara Stela.' Finally, 
the calling in of Joseph to interpret the dream, after all the 
magicians and wise men had been consulted in vain (Gn 419), jg 
likewise in agreement with Egyptian usage : the popular tales 
relate that, on the failure of the regular Interpreters, the king 
applied at will to private persons noted for their wisdom, as, 
e.ff.f in the case of the wise old man consulted by the Pharaoh 
in the 'Story of Cheops and the Magicians.' 

The interpretation of symbolical dreams was the 
business of special persons — the ' Masters of the 
Secret Things,' or the ' Scribes of the Double 
Honse of Life' (a very poor modem translation; 
the real meaning of the title is rather ' the Learned 
Men of the Magic Library '). At no time do these 
'oliicial dreamers' seem to have had the prominence 
they enjoyed in other civilizjitions. As regards 
mantic codification of the signification of beings, 
things, and phenomena seen in dreams, it is hardly 
likely that Egypt did not possess lists of this kind 
in the temples ; but, as a matter of fact, we do not 
possess at the present moment a single papyrus of 
the same kina as the collections of 'omen tablets' 
of the Chalda-an civilization. It is not a question, 
of course, of looking for a theoretical work or any- 
thing approaf'hing the Oneirocritica of Artemi- 
ilorus; all we could expect would be lists of facts 
and interpretations conceived on the model, e.g., of 
the hoToscopic calendars. 



4. Solicited dreams. — Of more frequent occur- 
rence is Divine intervention by means of dreams 
sought and obtained, either in exceptional circum- 
stances or in regular arranged form. Good ex- 
amples of the lirst class are furnished by the 
historical cases of kings finding themselves in a 
difficult situation, and imploring a god to grant 
them some light on the future or on the course 
they should follow. The classical inscription of 
Merenptah (Great temple of Kamak) is a good 
example : 

* Then his majesty aiw in a dream as if a statue of Ptah were 
standing before Pharaoh. He was like the height of. . . . He 
spake to him, "Take thou (it)," while he extended to him the 
sword, " and banish thou the fearful heart from thee." Pharaoh 
spake to him, " Lo . . . " ' (Breasted, Ancient Records 0/ Egypt, 
Chicago, ISKX), ill. 582). 

This passage throws light upon Herodotus' story 
(ii. 141) of the dreara of Sethos, a priest of Heph- 
jestus, during his struggle against Sennacherib : 

'The monarch . . . entered into the inner sanctuary, and, 
before the image of the god, bewailed the fate which impended 
over him. As he wept, he fell asleep, and dreamed that the 
god came and stood at his side, bidding him be of good cheer, 
and go boldly forth to meet the Arabian host, which would do 
him no hurt, as he himself would send those who should help 
him.' Of., on Sennacherib, 2 K 1930f . 

This is a faithful account — though Hellenized — of 
what the classical Pharaoh did. He did not ' bewail 
his fate,' £is the Greek author thought, but he stated 
his case in a prayer, the model of which is given in 
Maspero, Contespop. (see Lit.); and the appearance 
of the god in a dream was not an unexpected pheno- 
menon, but a necessary consequence of the prayer. 
The rest of the story — the entering of the temple, 
speaking before the statue, incubation, and, lastly, 
the response of the god — are pure Egyptian char- 
acteristics, and are in complete agreement with 
what we learn on this point from the inscriptions 
and popular tales. 

The various sources of information that have 
come down to us prove that incubation in the 
temple in order to obtain a remedy or a mantic 
response was a current practice, not only among 
princes, but also among private individuals. It is 
wonderful to find, once more, and in this connexion, 
that the Grieco-Roman authors were often more 
accurately informed than is usually believed. Before 
Egyptological knowledge had supplied the neces- 
sary proof, the accuracy of Diodorus (i. 28) was 
contested (Wilkinson, Manners and Customs, Lond. 
1878, ii. 356), when he says that 'in Egypt, dreams 
are regarded with religious reverence, especially as 
means of indicating remedies in illnesses ; and that 
' the prayers of worshippers are often rewarded by 
the indication of a remedy in a dream.' 

The story of Satni tells of MahituaskhiC poing to the temple 
of Imuthes (=A8kIopioB)in Memphis, praymg U) the go<l, then 
falling asleep in the temple, and receiving from the god in a 
dream a cure for her sterility : 'When to-morrow morning lireaks, 
go thou to the fountain of Satni, thy hustiand ; there thou shalt 
find growing a plant of colocasia ; puil it up, leaves and all, and 
with it make a potion which thou shalt give to thy husband ; 
then shalt thou sleep with him, and that very night shalt thou 
conceive.' 

This story is not simply a literary fabrication ; for we have 
the famous Memphite Stela of Psherenptah, of the Augustan 
period, giving epigraiiliical evidence of another case of sterility 
being similarly cured by a remedy revealed in a dream by the 
same god Imuthes. 

By piecing the various texts together, we gradu- 
ally arrive at a re-construction of the 'processus' 
of the Egyptian dream by incubation in the temple. 
The patient entered one of the sanctuaries where 
the gods were reported to give responses to those 
who came to sleep wkhin the sacred enclosure. 

Our information is fully verified by the texts, at least for the 
temples of Imuthes in Memphis, and of Thoth in Khimunu. All 
indications of a scientific nature lead to the same conclusion for 
the temple of Thoth Teos at Medinet-Habn, near Thebes (see 
DluEASK A.vn Mkdicinr [Egyp.]), and for the celebrated sanctuary 
of Isis at Philio (cf. Rcviilout, in PSBA x. [1887J 68). Finally, 
we are assured by Petrie that there were special places in the 
temple of Sarbut el-Qadem, in Sinai, for people who desired 
dreams from the goddess Haithar (Hathor) relating to the 
locality of turquoise mines (cf. Egupt and, Itrael, LondoD, 1911, 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Egyptian) 



p. it, and PenonaX Rtligion, do. 1900, pp. Z7, 81). Bat the 
■une author is proljAbly wroni; in Uiinitinir ttiat this pnctice 
rvpretents a borrowing: from ancient Semitic reliirion. 

When inside the t«niplc, the worshipijcr prayed 
the deity to reveal himself: 'Turn thy face to- 
wards me ' ; and besou'^lit him by liis well-known 
virtnex : ' 'Tis tliou who do.st acooniplish miracles 
and art benevolent in all thy doings ; 'tis thou 
who givest children to him that hath none,' or ' 'Tis 
thou who hast created magic, and established the 
heavens and the earth and the lower world ; 'tis 
thou who canst grant me the means of saving all.' 
The Ko<l was adjured to 'hear the prayer' (and 
this formula is, in the present writer's opinion, 
decisive proof that the various steljB on which ears 
[fotmu] are found are, after all the discussion on 
this point, votive offerings of the worshippers 
whose supplications the god had heard [sotmu] in 
cases of dreams by incubation). After tliese invo- 
cations, the inquirer waited for the god to come 
and answer him in sleep. 

There is one important point still obscure. We do not know 
whether, as in so many other savac^e and semi-savaf^e relig^ions, 
the coming of the dream was facilitated by the swallowing of 
aome narcotic or intoxicating substance (see Tylor, /'C3, 
London, 1891, ii. 416 f.). Of the two other equally frequent con- 
ditions—prayer and fasting— the former has been discussed. 
As regards fasting, it is almost certain, from a number of evi- 
dences and parallelisms, that it was an essential duty of the 
worshipper desiring a dream. It was originally based, as in 
uncivilized races, on magical notions which gave a pseudo- 
scientiHc interpretation to the hypersensibility to dreams 
caused by fastmg; therefore it developed into the idea of 



The god next appeared in a dream. The usual 
formula is: 'The god N [or 'some one,' instead of 
the Divine name honoris causa] spake to him, say- 
ing. . . ._' The deity begins, as a rule, by specify- 
ing the identity of the person he is addressing: 
' Art thou not such an one, son (or father, or wife, 
etc.) of so and so V (cf. Maspero, Contespopulaires", 
Paris, 1905, p. 137, for the dream of Mahituas- 
khit, and p. 147 for the dream of Horus, son of 
Panishi). When this is settled, the god next tells 
what should be done ' when morning comes,' and 
he uses no dark or symbolic language ; indeed, it 
is with most exact details that he tells, e.g., at 
what place a sealed naos will be found, or a cer- 
tain kind of box, containing a certain book, which 
must be copied and replaced, to be followed by a 
certain result, etc. The divinatory dream of an 
ordmary Egyptian type for incubation is thus a 
case of oneiromancy, not requiring a metaphysical 
interpretation, but with the direct instructions of 
the gods in clear terms. It is by these examples 
also that the sense of the passage of Hermes 
Trismegistus is established, referring to 'these 

Srophetic statues which foretell the future by 
reams and otherwise.' 

5. Dreams evoked by magricians.— Besides these 
othcial inetliods of soliciting dreams from the 
BOds, private magic taught means of obtaining 
dreams without recourse to the loftier temple 
procedure The papyri of later centuries have 
preserved the pitiable mixture of material details 
and barbarous jingles of words that form the 
clearest of those methods. 

Wov'^\y' 'xtpdr»Sr^.rn'trf :«;i\=? 
without touching food, do thus : Approach the lamp and reneat 



th... . . , -' "f P-' (The fSnnula is ii> long"^^"g^e but en"^ 
.1 desire ; c/. Budge, Eavp. Maiiir.. I.nnHnn ion, _ 0,0 



that 



n.,A^ p i» — : ^' ^ ""- ^"'^ iiiionnation 

M»,n„" ol' —.''"''•f''; ^WP. '»f(i</i-!, I/)ndon, 1901, p. 218.1 
Hr„»^" " t«"K^t »"a>"Kous means of getting 

dreams on unspenfied subjects from the popnlaf 
god of dreams, IJes, whose figure is carvcnl or 
engraved on numerous pUlows on which Egyptian 



heads reclined. With these formnlae we enter 
imperceptibly the domain of pure and simple 
su|(erstition and the current practices of Egyp- 
tian society. 

The same British Museum papyrus gives, in I. 64 fl., the 
method of drawing ' on the left hand ' a figure of Bes, then 
writing on a piece of cloth, with inlt made of sjiecial ingredi- 
ents, a formula of adjuration ; this cloth is then wrapped round 
the hand, and its end is rolled round the patient's neck. The 
god of dreams is summoned to come ' this very night.' 

It is doubtful whether the more enlightened 
members of Egyptian society admitted that the 
gods lent themselves so readily to the commands 
and threats of men. It is universally admitted, 
on the other hand, that the dead, who always liad 
power to come and give dreams to the living on 
their own initiative, were capable, in certain cir- 
cumstances, of being called into the service of 
private magic. 

Cases of direct interrention by the dead are not of great 
frequency in the literature at present known to us. The view 
of Pierret (Diet. Warch. igyp., Paris, 1876, t.v. 'Songe'), that 
the famous papyrus of 'The Teaching of Amenemhat' has 
reference to an appearance of the king's father, who came in a 
dream to instruct his son, is nothing more than hypothesis. 
The same is true of the interview of Khonsu-m-habi with a 
dead man (this may have been a waking vision). The most 
certain cases are those indicated by the formulie found by 
Erman in the Berlin magic papyrus, to be employed for driving 
off the ghosts that torment children in sleep (see art. CniLDRBN 
[Egyptian]). The well-known I^yden papyrus is the type par 
excellence of cases of a dead woman coming to torment her 
husband in dreams. The way to get rid of this torment was to 
make a statuette of the dead wife and tie uiX)n its wrist a list 
of the husband's good deeds during his wedded life, and then a 
summons to the ghost to stop her persecution, under the threat 
of proceedings before the god of the dead. 

The magicians took full advantage of this 
readiness of the dead to evoke dreams. They 
did not employ all ghosts, but only those whose 
wretched condition had deprived them of their 
habitations, family-cult, or tomb, and who had con- 
sequently to beg assistance of the living and to 
put themselves at their service in order to exist 
(see Demons and Spirits [Egyp.]) ; hence the 
importance attached in necromancy to the spirits 
of shipwrecked people, suicides, executed crimmals, 
etc. Most of the Egyptian books of magic include 
private formulre for sending dreams in this way 
(cf. the Louvre papjrrus 3229, the Gnostic papy- 
rus of Leyden, and the late incantations in Greek). 
The dreams thus sent belong to two general cate- 
gories : (a) dreams which torment and devour by 
witchcraft ; and (6) dreams sent to inspire some 
one with an ardent love, to encourage a loved one's 
fidelity, or to bring hostility to a rival or make 
him physically impotent. In all such cases tlie 
.sending of the dream is usually complicated by a 
casting of spells through the medium of a figure 
of the person to whom the dream is sent (see 
Maspero, Histoire, Paris, 1895, i. 213 ; and the 
cases of 'love figures' given by Budge in his 
Egyptian Mcufic, p. 94 ff.). The whole combines, 
later on, with Chaldsean, Jewish, and Greek 
magic to form the involved processes of tabellce 
devotionis, where dream, incantation, and necro- 
mancy are all confused, the dream-sending, how- 
ever, remaining the chief element (cf., on this 
difficult question, Maspero, £tudes de myth, et 
d'archiol. igyp., Paris, 1893, pp. 297, 311 ; and the 
fine studies of Revillout, 'Amatoria,' in Mevue 
igyptologique, i. [1881] 69 ff.). A papyrus in the 
British Museum commends the sending of love- 
dreams by the method of tracing words with a 
nail ' taken from a wrecked ship ' and then throw- 
ing them into the sea ; or by making this declara- 
tion before a lamp filled with oil of a special 
composition : ' I desire to appear in the dream of 
the daughter of N. . . .' By gradual stages the 
magician adds to these spirits of the dead in his 
service spirits of demons or of ill-disposed gods, 
and we see developing the system of black magic 



DEBAMS AND SLEEP (Teutonic) 



9f 



I 



which lasted throughout the centuries in tlie 
Mediterranean world and in Christian Europe. 

Thi3 general theory of the dreams sent by magicians fits in 
exactly with the accounts of pseudo-Callisthenes relating to 
the legendary birth of Alexander, and proves the Egyptian 
nature — mistakenly contested — of the dreams that were sent to 
Olympias and to Philip. The first dream, sent to the queen, 
is accompanied by a ceremony of spell-casting with a wax 
figure and unctions of magic herbs analogous to all the 
practices mentioned above. The dream-visit of Anion to the 
queen's room is purely Egyptian, and falls in with the theory 
of Divine conceptions by dreams described at Luxor and Deir 
el-Bahari for the Thebans of the XVIIIth Dynasty. Finally, 
the dream in which the hawk is sent from Egypt to announce to 
Philip the miraculous birth of Alexander is equally in agree- 
ment with the mechanism employed by the magicians of the 
NUe VaUey. 

6. General. — It will be observed that in none of 
the cases mentioned as yet do we see an ordinary 
living person taking any part at all in a dream 
(giving a warning, coming from a distance, an- 
nouncing an approaching death, etc.) ; there is 
nothing of the nature of the interview of Patroclus 
and Achilles (II. xxiii. 65 ff. ). And, on the other 
hand, we have no Egyptian examples of the 
dreamer going to a distant land in his dream, 
living the past over again, seeing future events, 
or, in a word, playing any of the parts that are so 
frequent in dreams of other religions. Besides 
the dreams already mentioned, in which the dead 
appear, the only other apparitions seem to have 
been of gods speaking on definite questions in the 
clear language of earth, and, sometimes, but more 
rarely, calling the attention of the sleeper to 
certain symbolical figures that most be inter- 
preted. 

We now come to the final question of what theory 
was probably held in Egypt as to the mechanism of 
the dream. No formal explanation has ever been 
given of this in any Egyptian text known to us, 
and there is little chance that there ever existed 
an oneirocritical work analogous to those pos- 
sessed by the Mediterranean world. The Egyp- 
tian dream is not connected rationally either with 
the mechanism of omens, or with the theory of 
'influences,' or with the process of 'intersigns.' 
It is a tangible reality and is regarded as such, 
without mysticism and, as a rule, without sym- 
bolism. There is not even any allusion, as by 
Penelope in the Odyssey (xix. 500 fi'.), to the possi- 
bility of a fallacious dream. On the other band, 
the absence of dreams in which the soul goes 
away or in which living persons appear is signifi- 
cant. As it is evident that the Egyptians, like 
other men, must have had dreams of this type, 
the fact that they omit to mention them in the 
texts proves that they did not consider them of 
importance. Now, if we admit, with Tylor (Prim. 
Cult.; i. 121, 440, ii. 24, 49, 76, 416), that these 
types of dreams are included in the list of the 
fundamental elements of primitive religious pheno- 
mena, it must be concluded that Egypt was already 
far beyond these conceptions, and nad travelled 
far, in this connexion, from the ideas as to the 
rdle and nature of dreams cherished by the ma- 
jority of contemporary African peoples. In the 
last place, the tlieory of the dream seems to the 

E resent ^vriter, after a careful examination of the 
Egyptian ideas, to be based not upon the separa- 
tion or the journey of one of the souls of a human 
Ijeing during sleep, but upon the hypersensitive- 
ness of the sleeping man. This fact may be of 
great interest for the history of comparative re- 
ligion. Tliere would seem to correspond, in short, 
to the sleeping state a sjiecial sensitiveness en- 
abling the individual to see and hear beings that 
are always in existence, but cannot be perceived in 
a waking state because the senses are too gross. 
This would agree with the belief that on certain 
occasions or by certain processes man can actually 
acquire this lucidity, by way of exception, in a 



waking state (e.g. ' to see invisible spirits ' by 
rubbing the eyes with a magic substance ; or ' to 
read sealed writing' through the matter of the 
case, etc.). The whole hypothesis agrees, how- 
ever, with the practice that we have established 
as fact or suspected as preliminary conditions in 
Egypt of obtaining a dream : prayer (i.e. an at- 
tenuated form of incantation), fasting, etc. The 
whole question would thus come under the general 
theory of the ecstatic process. Ear from being, 
as in other religions, a sort of death, sleep in 
Egypt was a state of lucid supersensitiveness of 
the various souls contained in the individual. In 
support of this view, there is a very important 
phenomenon to be noted, viz. the ecstatic sleep of 
the sam, so often described or represented in the 
ritual and in the scenes of the famous ceremony 
known as the ' Opening of the Mouth ' of the dead. 
It is during this sleep that the sam acquires the 
power of seeing and hearing the soul of the dead 
' in all the forms which it takes,' as the dreamer 
declares on awaking. 

LrrBRATURB. — ^There is no monograph on the subject Vari- 
ous facts are briefly given in : A. Erman, Religion, Fi;. ed., 
Paris, 1907, pp. 81, 211, 222; V. Ermoni, Relig. Ue VBgypte. 
ancienne, Paris, 1910, Index ; G. Maspero, i/wtotVe, i. (Paris, 
1895) 213, 266 ; Ph. Virey, Kelig. de Vane. Egi/pte, Paris, 1910, 
pp. 129, 226 ; see, for the examples taken from the classics, 
J. G. Wilkinson, Hanners and Cu*tom« of the Anc. Egyptians, 
ed. London, 1878, i. 139, ii. 366, 464, iii. 95. The text of the 
principal Pharaonic documents is given in J. H. Breasted, 
Ancient Records of Egypt, Chicago, 1904-1907, ii. 816, ilL 682, 
iv. 922; Maspero, Contes populairea^, Paris, 1905, pp. 132f., 
145, 147, 157, 166, 265, 287. The only works in which the subject 
is approached theoretically are : E. A. W. Budge, Egyp. 
Magic, London, 1901, pp. 94, 206 ; G. Maspero, ' Imhotep,' in 
Journal des Savants, 1901, and ' Comment Alexandre d^vint 
Dieu ' {Annuaire de ticole des hautes itudes, 1899), p. 26 f. 

George Fouoart. 
DREAMS AND SLEEP (Teutonic).— Breams 
played a considerable part in the lives of the 
Teutons, but their significance was only prophetic. 
They were thought to foreshadow events in the 
future of the dreamer or his immediate surround- 
ings, but there is no hint tliat they played any 
part in religion. The idea that revelations as to 
the nature of the gods could be made throu^'h the 
agency of dreams seems to have been foreign to 
Teutonic conceptions, and the later mystical 
dreams of the Middle Ages must, therefore, bo 
held to be a Christian growth. In Scandinavia, 
whence almost all our information for heathen 
times is obtained, dreams were not only divorced 
from religion, but also to a great extent from 
magic. The art of interpreting dreams was in 
no way connected with magical powers, but was 
usually found in combination with a philosophical 
attitude towards life, and a wide knowledge of the 
world. Thus, in the Laxdale Saga, Gudrun ap- 
peals to no witch-wife, but to Gest the Wise, a 
chief universally esteemed for his ripe wisdom, for 
the interpretation of her dream ; and in the Heima- 
kringla we find King Halfdan the Black con- 
sulting his wisest counsellor about his dream. 
Every one, however, was acquainted with the 
rudiments of the art of interpretation, and there 
seems to have been a general consensus of opinion 
as to the significance of certain phenomena in 
dreams : thus Gudrun, in the Lay of AM, says 
that dreaming of iron portends fire ; and Hogni, m 
the same poem, declares that his wife's dream of a 
polar bear only foretells a storm from the east. 
The fact that most of the recorded Scandinavian 
dreams are of ominous import must be ascribed to 
the selective process exercised by the authors of 
Saga or poem. The value of dreams, used as a 
literary device to deepen tlie atmosphere of doom 
which surrounds a fated house, was fully appreci- 
ated by them. So, before the catastropliic ending 
of the Atli (Attila) poems, the wives of Hogni and 
Gunuar in vain strive to stay their husbands by 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Vedio) 



the recital of their dark dreams ; and tlio untius- 
pectiiiK Atli wakes Gudrun to tell lior tlie dream 
which forettlia«lows his owu death at lier avenging 
bands. In many of tlie Sagas tlio suspense before 
a tragic ha]>pening is enhaui^od by dreams woven 
into the story, notably in the Saga of Gisli the 
Outlaw. However, Snorri Sturluson makes good 
uae of a more cheerful type of dream in his his- 
tories of the Norwegian kings, shadowing forth 
the glory of the royal line in the dream of a lofty 
tree, many-branched, spreading all over Norway 
aiul beyond it. Saxo Urammaticus, in his Ge^ta 
Panorum, tells us of a dream of King Gorm of 
Denmark which has a similar significance, and one 
is also recorded from Sweden. 

It is worth while to examine a little more 
closely the various classes of foreboding dreams. 
The simplest type is merely a dream vision of 
what is to come ; thus a great blaze indicates the 
burning of a house, and so on. But the dreams 
most frequently mentioned in the old Scandinavian 
sources image forth the persons involved under 
animal form, showing how deeply rooted was the 
idea of the fylgja, the materialization, as it were, 
in animal form, of a man's spiiit, which attended 
him through life, and could be seen in dreams, or 
by waking persons before the death of its owner 
(see Soul [Teut.]). Thus, in Njdls Saga, a dream 
of a bear followed by two dogs is at once read as 
showing the presence, in the neighbourhood, of the 
warlike Gunnar, with two companions. Thorstein 
Egilsson, in the Gunnlaugs iiaga, dreams of two 
eagles fighting over the possession of a swan : the 
eagles are the/ylgjur of the two rivals for the love 
of his daughter, whose fylgja is the swan. There 
is a remarkable similarity between this dream and 
that in the Nibelungenlied, where Kriemhild sees 
two eagles tear her pet falcon to pieces. Charle- 
magne s dream of the meeting of a bear and a 
leopard, recorded in the Song of Roland, evidently 
belongs to this class. In other dreams, again, it 
is the guardian spirit, or a deceased member of the 
family, who appears to the living representative to 
warn him of danger or death — in two stories the 
warning conveyed is of a landslip, from which the 
dreamer is thereby enabled to escape. In later 
Christian times we find St. Olaf or one of the popu- 
lar Icelandic bishops fulfilling this warning func- 
tion. In the short Icelandic tale entitled the Dream 
of Thorstein, three female guardian spirits come 
weeping to Thorstein, imploring him to be wary, 
for that his thrall Gilli seeks to murder him ; but 
their warning is in vain. Similar is the last dream 
of Glaum vor, in the Lay of Atli, in which she sees 
dead women, clothed in sad-coloured weeds, come 
to call her' husband Gunnar to the realms of the 
dead. It is characteristic of the stem Teutonic 
conception of the workings of Fate that dreams 
are only seldom warnings to be profited by ; of tener 
they are foreshadowings of an inevitable doom. 
The gods never appear in dreams until faith in 
their divinity has been extinguished by Christi- 
anity. On the other hand, we must note that evil 
dreams beset the god Balder before his death 
(VegtamskvitSa, in the Older Edda). Nightmares 
were not classed as dreams among the Teutonic 
people, but were (and indeed frequently are) attri- 
buted to the actual presence on the bed of a 
supernatural being, a mara, alp, or trude, or to 
the witchcraft (.f an ill-disjwsed neighbour. 

In Scandinavia, where the interpretation of 
dreams was a secular art, unassocialed with either 
magic or religion, the introduction of Christianity 
did not lessen the esteem in which it was held. 
Thus it is evidently no disgrace to the Icelandic 
bishop St. ThorlAk that he took great pleasure in 
tbe recital of dreams. In England, however, the 
Study of dreams is denounced by an early arch- 



bishop, together with magical practices, sooth- 
saj'ing, and the like. That it held a lower place 
in England than in Scandinavia seems also clear 
from tlie absence of dreams as a literary device in 
Old English poems. In Germany, as we have seen, 
the Nibelungenlied aflbrds evidence for the same 
views on dreaming as prevailed in Scandinavia j 
but, on the other hand, we find Walther von der 
Vogelweide making fun both of dreams and of tlie 
wise women who professed to interpret them. 
At the present day, however, Germany is full of 
' Trauni biicher,' giving rules for the interpretation 
of dreams, and especially as to the methods ol 
detecting, in some detail of a dream, a lucky 
number m the State lotteries. These books have 
an immense sale, and it is a significant fact that 
in some parts of Germany the lottery agents them- 
selves sell ' Traumbiicher,' and that in Austria 
they have been forbidden by law to do so. In 
Franconia, the interpretation of dreams for lottery 
purposes is a kind of secret knowledge, very profit- 
able to its professors. 

It is a firm belief in most Teutonic countries 
that to sleep in a new house, or at least in a new 
bed, is the best method of securing a dream ; it 
was the method known in the Middle Ages, and 
was recommended to King Gorm of Denmark in 
heathen times. A curious variant of this practice 
was adopted by King Ilalfdan the Black. This 
Norwegian king slept in a pig-sty in order to cure 
tiimself of the habit of dreamless sleep, which was 
considered a disquieting mental disease. In some 
parts of Germany it is tliought that, if the dreamer 
refrains from telling a bad dream until after mid- 
day, its accomplishment will be prevented. The 
frequent refusal of persons in the Icelandic Sagas 
to relate their dreams, or their protests of dis- 
belief in dreams, may possibly be due to a similar 
idea. Without parallel in Teutonic sources is the 
death-bringing dream mentioned in the Icelandic 
Lj6svelning Saga, where the dream had such power 
that the first person who heard it must die. 

Certain nights, whose significance dates from 
heathen times, are considered the most important 
for dreams almost all over Teutonic Europe, 
especially the Twelve Nights (the heathen Yule), 
and Midsummer Night. Both in Sweden and in 
Germany it is the custom to lay a bunch of nine 
difl'erent varieties of fiowers under the pillow on 
Midsummer Eve, to ensure that the dreams of the 
night shall come true. 

LiTBEATDRB. — W. HcDzen, Vber die Trdutne in dtr aUnor- 
discfien Sagalitteratur, Leipzig, 1890 ; A. Wuttke, Verdeutsclte 
Volkiaberglaube der Gegenwart^ cd. Berlin, 1900; J. Grimm, 
Deutsche Mythologies, Berlin, 1875-78; O. Scbrader, Heailexikmi 
derindogerm. Altertumshunde, Strassburg, 1901, s.v, 'Traum.' 

B. S. Phillpotts. 
DREAMS AND SLEEP (Vedic).— The chief 
passage in Vedic literature for the explanation of 
the psychology of dreams is Bfhadaranyaka Up- 
anisad, iv. 3. 9-14. Two theories are advanced: 
(1) in dreams the soul takes its material from the 
world and constructs for itself by its own light the 
objects which it sees ; (2) in sleep the soul abandons 
the body and roams where it will, hence the 
injunction not to awaken suddenly one who is 
sleeping, for in that case the soul may not find its 
way back to the hotly — an evil which is hard to 
cure. For the later workings over of tliis passage 
in the attempt to harmonize these theories, see 
Deussen, AUgem. Gesch. der Philos., 189411'., I. ii. 
271-274. For the present purpose the second 
hypothesis is the more important. Its dillerence 
from the first theory is ascribed by Deussen to 
the poetic form in which it is presented. More 
probably the difference is deeper, and we have in 
these verses a poetic version of an extremely old 
belief frequently found among peoples at a low 
stage of civilization, the existence of which among 



DREAMS AND SLEEP (Vedio) 



M 



r 



the Vedic peoples mnst be posited to explain the 
efforts made, from the Kigveda onwards, to remove 
the fancied efl'eets of evil dreams. 

A number of stanzas both in the Rigveda and 
in the Atharvaveda speak of an evil dream (duh- 
rvapna, duli^vapnya) as a calamity comparable with 
sin, disease, and witchcraft, or are employed in the 
ritual for the expiation of evil dreams. From the 
Kigveda may be cited: i. 89. 8-9, 99. 1, 114. 1, 
120. 12, ii. 28. 10, v. 82. 4-5, viii. 47. 14-18, x. 
36. 4, 37. 4, 127. 1 (the Bdtrisukta, or rather its 
khila), and 164. 1. The thirty-third PariMsta of 
the Atharvaveda gives as the duhsvapnanaiaiia- 
gana (list of hymns that destroy the effects of evil 
dreams) : Atharv. iv. 17. 5, vi. 45. 1, 46. 1, vii. 
100. 1, 108. 1-2, ix. 2. 2-3, x. 3. 6, xvi. 5. 1, and, 
as far as the subject-matter is concerned, miglit 
have included also: vi. 121. l = vii. 83. 4, xvi. 
6. 2, 8-9, xix. 56. 1, 57. 1. The last two hymns are 
employed at a ceremony called svastyayana, per- 
formed each morning to secure good fortune for the 
king (cf. Atharv. Far. viii. 1. 3). For the most 
part these stanzas contain little that is distinctive. 
Typical is Kigveda x. 37. 4 : ' O Surya, with that 
light with which thou dost conquer darkness, with 
that sun with which thou dost rise over all living 
creatures, with that drive away from us all weak- 
ness, impiety, disease, and evil dreams.' 

In the hieratic literature the manipulation of 
these stanzas in the ritual is also quite common- 
place. Thus at Aitareya Aranyaka, iii. 2. 4. 18, 
one who has had an evil dream is ordered to fast, 
cook a pot of rice in mUk, make oblations of it, 
each accompanied by a verse of the Katrisiikta, 
feast the Brahmans, and eat the leavings, of the 
oblation. Similar directions are given in Sdnkhd- 
yana Grhya Sutra v. 5. 3-13, with the additional 
requirement that the milk must be from a cow 
that is not black and that has a calf of the same 
colour. Furthermore, Kigveda i. 89. 8-9 must al.<o 
be recited. In AhxtlCiyana Grhya Sutra iii. 6. 
5-6 the oblation is of rice grains, and is made to 
the sun with Kigv. v. 82. 4--6, viii. 47. 14-18, or ii. 
28. 10. With the first of these verses Samaveda i. 
141 ia identical. Its nmttering is prescribed at 
Gobhila Gfhya Sutra iiL 3. 32 (cf. Samavidh/ina i. 
8. 7) in case of bad dreams. Uiranyakcsin Gfhya 
Sutra i. 17. 4 orders in a similar case a sacrilice of 
sesame and djya, accompanied by verses, one of 
which is equivalent to Atharv. vii. 101. Similar is 
the practice of Mdnava Gfhya Sutra ii. 15. Kdt- 
ySyana Srauta Sutra xxv. 11. 20 in the same case 
oirects that a dikxita (one who has taken the bath 
that con.secrates him for the performance of a 
sacrifice) must mutter a verse practically equivalent 
to Atharv. vii. 100. 1 (cf. also Apastavilnya Srauta 
SiUra x. 13. U). The Bigvidhana i. 23. 2, 24. 1, 
25. 1, 30. 1, ii. 33. 2, iv. 20. 1 also enjoin the 
mattering of a number of verses to destroy the 
eonsequences of evil dreams. Noteworthy also is 
the fact that SdnkhCiyana Gfhya Sutra \. 7. 2 in- 
cludes most of the verses from the Kigvctla in the 
list of verses to Iw recited each morning. 

In the Atharvan ritual the practices are more 
striking; ol t\\Gn\ Kauiihi, xlvi. 9-13 gives a list. 
While reciting Atharv. vi. 45 and 46, the person 
who liaa had a bad dream washes Ids face. When 
the dream was very bad, he oilers with these hymns 
a cake of mixed grains, or deposits, while reciting 
the hymns, such a cake in the land of an enemy. 
Or after a bad dream one may recite Atharv. vii. 
100. 1 and turn on the other side. Whenever any one 
dreams that he has eaten, he must recite Atharv. 
viL 101 and look round about him. Atharv. vi. 
46. 2-3 may be substitiited for any of the above 
mantras. Among the ParUUlas, the Ghrtdvekijana 
viii. 2. 5 comprises in its efl'eets the destruction of 
evil dreams, and in Atharv. Par. xxxiii. 1. 3 it 



is stated that Indra formerly suffered from such 
dreams until the Ghftakambala afforded him relief. 

The ceremonies show that their purpose is not to 
secure immunity from the actual discomforts of 
nightmare, and also that tlie dream is not looked 
upon merely as a bad omen, but rather as an actual 
contamination. This view is but the logical result 
of combining the theory tliat in dreams the soul 
leaves the body and actually undergoes the 
experiences which the waking mind remembers 
with the Vedic belief that sin is not only a moral 
delinquency, but much more, a gt«««i-physical 
contamination. Under these circumstances an 
excursion into dreamland must have appeared to 
the Vedic mind as fraught with possible dangers. 
The methods taken to remove them naturally 
resemble the attempts to remove actual impurities, 
physical or spiritual — viz. ablutions and the trans- 
ferring of tne burden to another. The latter 
means, which is symbolized in the Atharvan ritual 
by the depositing of the cake in the enemy's land, 
is expressed in the Rigveda itself, viii. 47. 14 ft'., by 
the prayer to Usas (Dawn) to transfer the evil 
dream to Trita Aptya, the scape-goat of the gods. 
For this mythological concept the Atharvaveda 
characteristically shows in its re-modelling of the 
stanzas a human enemy. In some cases apparently 
the contamination arises from association with 
spirits of the dead. Thus at ^atapatha Brdhinana 
xiii. 8. 4. 4, persons returning from a funeral, 
among other precautions to escape the uncanny 
influences, wipe themselves with an apamdrga 
plant, imploring it to drive away, among other 
evils, bad dreams. The association with the world 
of Yama may also be seen in Atharv. vi. 46, xix. 
56 ; and it is most probable that the ' friend ' of 
Kigv. ii. 28. 10 {=Mditrdyanl Samhita iv. 229. 3) 
who speaks to one of danger in sleep, and against 
whom Varuna's protection is implored, is a 
departed spirit. 

Auspicious dreams naturally appear much less 
frequently in the ritual. At Chhdndogya Upanisad 
v. 2. 8-9 it is stated that if, during the progress of 
a sacrifice intended to procure tiie fulfilment of a 
wish, the sacrilicer sees in his dreams a woman, he 
may infer the success of his sacrifice. 

Divination by means of dreams is attested by 
Sdmaviillulna iii. 4. 1-2, where two ceremonies are 
described that ensure prophetic dreams. 

Dreams as omens. — That the interpretation of 
dreams must have begun to occupy the attention 
of the Brahmans at a very early period is implied 
in the very fact of the recognition of the evil 
character of some dreams. It is also corroborated 
by tlie mention at an early time of certain minute 
particulars as constituting evil dreams. Thus 
Kigv. viii. 47. 15 mentions as ominous the making 
of an ornament, or the weaving of a garland (for 
explanationof these omensfrom the later literature, 
cf. Pischel, ZDMG xl. 111). The Aitareya Aran- 
yaka iii. 2. 4. 16 tt'. gives a number of dreams that 
forebode death : e.g., if a person sees a black man 
with black teeth and that man kills him, if a 
boar kills him, if a monkey jumps on him, if he 
is carried swiftly by the wind, if he swallows gold 
(emblematic of life) and vomits it, if he eats 
lioney or chews stalks, or wears a single (red) 
lotus, or drives a chariot harnessed with asses or 
boars, or, wearing a wreatli of red flowers, drives a 
black cow with a black calf towards the south (cf. 
Aufrecht, ZDMG xxxii. 573 fF.). The explanation 
of the requirement (see above) that dreaming of 
eating shall he followed by an expiation is 
doubtful. Caland regards it as an omen of lack of 
food, on the principle that dreams go by contraries. 
But dreaming of eating is in itself a goo<l omen 
(cf. Pischel, Album-Kern, Leyden,lCO.S, p. 115 ff'.). 
Pischel's explanation, that it is the failure to find 



40 



DRESS 



in tlie morning the food dreamed of wliicli con- 
stitutes the omen, seems forced. The commenta- 
tor's remark, tliat while reciting Atliarv. vii. 101 
he looks around as if he hod eaten food, suggests a 
different explanation. His soul has incautiously 
eaten food — an act surrounded hy superstitious 
practices because of the sujjposcd danger of the 
entrance of a demon (see DiSKASK AND MEDICINE 
Vedic]), — and the dreamer now seeks to take the 
precautions which his soul omitted in the dream. 

LiTEKATURi.— The minutencsa of the omens cit«d pointa to a 
full development of this pseudo-scicDce at an early jwriod. In 
agreement wiUi them are the systematic expositions of the 
subject, although the survivinjf worlts are of a much later date. 
First among these is to be mentioned the sixty-eighth I'ariii^{a 
of the Atbarvaveda, entitled Svapnddhyaya (the chapter 
on dreams). Cf. The J'arHiftf 0/ the Alharvaveda, ed. 
O. M. Boiling and J. t. Negeleln, vol. i. Leipzig, 1909-10. 
Certain phase* of the subject are treated in the Purapas 
(cf. Maliya P. 242, tlarkat}4eya P. 43, Koyu P. 19, Agni 
P. 228. 14, Brahmavaivarta P. if. 76) and the astrological 
works. The Epics also contain tales of prophetic dreams; cf. 
Uahdhharata v. 143. 30 ff. ; Ram. ii. 69. l.'j (Schlegel), v. 27. 
14 ff. (Uon-esio). The instances of visions mentioned in Indian 
literature have been collected by L. Scherman, Materialien 
ztir Gench. der ind. ViswnslUteratur, Leipzig, 1892 ; cf. also 
E. Hultzscb, Prokgomena lu del Vasantardja Qdiuna, do. 
1879, p. 15 ff. A detailed treatment of the dream superstitions 
of the Hindus is about to be published by J. v. Negelein. 

G. M. BOLLINQ. 

DRESS. — An analysis of the relations of man's 
clothing with his development in social evolution 
will naturally be cliieHy concerned with psycho- 
logical categories. When once instituted, for 
wliatever reasons or by whatever process, dress be- 
came a source of psychical reactions, often complex, 
to a greater extent (owing to its more intimate 
connexion with personality) than anyothermaterial 

Eroduct of intelligence. Some outline of the 
istorical development of dress will be suggested, 
rather than drawn, as a guide to the main inquiry. 
The practical or, if one may use the term, the 
biological uses and meaning of dress, are simple 
enough and agreed upon. These form the first 
state of the material to be employed by the social 
consciousness. Its secondary states are a subject 
in themselves. 

1. Origins.— The primary significance of dress 
becomes a difficult question as soon as we pass 
from the institution m being to its earliest stages 
and its origin. For speculation alone is possible 
when dealing with the genesis of dress. Its con- 
clusions will be probable, in proportion as they 
satisfactorily bridge the gulf between the natural 
and the artificial stages of human evolution. The 
information supplied by those of the latter that 
are presumably nearest to the natural state, to 
Protanthropus, is not in itself a key to the origin 
of clothing, but, on the other hand, the mere 
analogy of animal-life is still less helpful. An 
animal has a natural covering more efficient for 
the two uses of protection against the environment 
and of ornamentation as a sexual stimulus. An 
animal may become adapted to a change, for 
instance to an Arctic climate, by growing a thick 
fur which is white. It may be supposed that, to 
meet a similar chonge, man invents the use of 
artificial coverings. But this old argument is 
contradicted by all the facts. 

It may serve, however, to point by contrast the 
actual continuity of the natural and the artificial 
stages, the physical and the psychical stages, of 
our evolution. If we say that man is the only 
animal that us^an artificial covering for the body 
we are apt to lorget that even when clothed he i.s 
subject to the same environmental influences as in 
the ages before dr&ss. Again, there is no hint that 
the approach of a glacial epoch inaugurated the 
invention of dress. But it is an establislied fact 
that the survivors of immigrantB to changed 
conditions of climate and geological environment 
become physically adapted by some means of 



interaction and in certain directions of structure, 
which are just coming to be recognized. The 
British settlers in North America have assumed 
the aboriginal type of the Indian face and head ; 
migrants from lowlands to uplands develop round- 
headedness ; from the temperate zone to the tropics 
man develops frizzly hair, and so on. The most 
obvious of these natural adaptations, physio- 
logically produced, to the environment is pigmenta- 
tion. The skin of man is graded in colour from 
the Equator to the Pole. The deeper pigmentation 
of the tropical skin is a protection against the 
actinic rays of the sun ; the blondness of northern 
races, like the white colour of Arctic animals, 
retains the heat of the body. 

If we followed the analogy of the animal, we 
should have to take into account the fact that a 
mechanical intelligence enables it to obviate certain 
disadvantages of its natural covering. The animal 
never exposes itself unnecessarily ; its work, in 
the case of the larger animals, is done at night, not 
in the glare of the sun. Automatically it acquires 
an artificial covering in the form of shelter. If 
man in a natural state followed a similar principle, 
he would be at no more disadvantage than is the 
animal. A similar argument applies to the other 
use mentioned above, namely, sexual decoration. 
What these considerations suggest is that man was 
not forced by necessity to invent. The reason is 
at once deeper and simpler. Again, we get the 
conclusion tnat one primary use and meaning of 
dress is not so much to provide an adaptation to a 
climate as to enable man to be superior to weather ; 
in other words, to enable him to move and be 
active in circumstances where animals seek shelter. 
The principle is implicit in the frequent proverbial 
comparison of clothing to a house. 

Dress, in fact, as a secondary human character, 
must be treated, as regards its origins, in the same 
way as human weapons, tools, and machines. 
Dress increases the static resisting power of the 
surface of the body, just as tools increase the 
dynamic capacity of the limbs. It is an extension 
(and thereby an intension) of the passive area of 
the person, just as a tool is of the active mechanism 
of the arm. It is a second skin, as the other is a 
second hand. 

Further, if we take an inclusive view of evolution, 
admitting no break between the natural and the 
artificial, but regarding the latter as a sequence to 
the former, we shall oe in a position to accept 
indications that both stages, and not the former 
only, are subject to the operation of the same 
mechanical laws, and show (with the necessary 
limitations) similar results. These laws belong to 
the interaction of the organism and the environ- 
ment, and the results are found in what is called 
adaptation, an optimum of equilibrium, a balanced 
interaction, between the two. In this connexion 
we may take examples from two well-marked 
stages in the evolution of our subject, the one 
showing a deficiency, the other a sufhciency, of the 
artificial covering of the body. A good observer 
remarks of the Indians of Guiana, not as a result 
of habituation, but as a first impression of their 
naked forms, that 

'it is a most curious but certain fact that these people, 
even as they wander in the streets of Georgetown, do not 
appear naked.' 1 
The other case is that of the Chaco Indians : 

' The Indian is perfectly suited to his environment ; even his 
picturesque costume and the ornamental painting with which 
he adorns his body is in perfect harmony with his svirroundings. 
The colours blend so beautifully that {here is no doubt what- 
ever that the Indian has, in a very great degree, tlie idea of 
fitness and harmony.' ^ 

If we qualify in the last sentence the word 'idea' 

1 E. F. Im Tliurn, Indians 0/ Guiana, 1883, p. 194. 

2 W. B. Grubb, An Unknoum I'eojtU in an Unknoion Land; 
The Indians o/Ote Paraguayan Chaco, 1911, p. 55. 



DRESS 



41 



by the adjective 'automatic' or 'unconscious,' 
we shall have a sound explanation of a very 
remarkable phenomenon. The point of the pheno- 
menon is that the evolution of man's artificial 
covering maintains a balance or harmony with the 
environment, particularly in respect to light, just 
as was the case with the naked Indian skins, 
arrived at just as mechanically, but through the 
unconscious reaction of the retina. Thus, there 
is a real continuity between the adaptive colour of 
the chameleon, and similar cases of so-called 
protective coloration (which is primarily merely a 
mechanical attunin" to the environment), and 
the harmony which human dress may show with 
its surroundings. The selective process has not 
been conscious, but neither has it been accidental. 
It is the result of law. Equally unconscious in 
its first stages was the adaptation of dress to 
temperature. 

This brings ns no nearer to the origins of dress, 
though it clears the ground. Still further to 
simplify speculation, we may notice some prevalent 
hypotheses on the subject. Dress being a covering, 
it assumes, when instituted, all the applicable 
meanings which the idea of covering involves. But 
it by no means follows that all of these, or even 
any, were responsible for its original institution. 

There is, first, the hypothesis that clothing 
originated in the decorative impulse. This has the 
merit of providing a cause which could operate 
through unconscious intelligence, automatic feel- 
ing. Stanley Hall fovmd that of the three functions 
of clothing whose realization and expression he 
investigated in a questionnaire — protection, orna- 
ment, and Lotzean self-feeling — the second is by 
far the most conspicuous in childhood. The chUd 
is unconscious of sex, otherwise this statistical 
result might be brought into line with the sexual 
ornamentation of animals. And, though it is 
unsafe to press any analogy between the civilized 
child and tlie savage, the savages known to science 
are, as a rule, very fond of finery, absolutely, and 
not always in relation to the other sex. 

•The natural nian,' Bays Ratzel.i 'will undergo any trouble, 
any discomfort, in order to beautify himself to the best of hi» 
power.' 

Dandies, Im Thum ' remarks, are about as frequent 
among the Indians as in civilized communities. At 
Port Moresby, in New Guinea, young men actually 

firactise tight-lacing, to be smart and fashionable.' 
n these spheres, indeed, it is chiefly the young, if 
not mere children, who express the impulse to 
decoration. Of the Dayaks of Borneo a good 
observer has remarked that a 

•love of finer>' is inherent in the young of both sexes; the 
elderly "are less fond of it and often dress very shabbily, and 
save up^ their good clothes for their offspring.' * 
It is in accordance with the rule among animals 
that among primitive peoples the male sex chiefly 
assumes decoration. Ornaments among the Indian.^ 
of Guiana are more worn by men than by women. 
The stock ornamentation is paint ; scented oils are 
used as vehicles. 

* A mai^ when he wants to dress well, perhaps entirely coats 
both his feet up to the ankles with a crust of red ; his whole 
trunk be sometimes stains uniformly with blue-black, more 
rarely with red, or he covers it with an intricate pattern of lines 
of either colour ; he puts a streak of red along the bridge of his 
nose ; where his eyebrows were till he pulled them out he puts 
two red lines ; at the top of tlie arch of Win forehead he pntti a 
big lump of red paint, and probably he scatters other S}>ots and 
lines somewhere on his face.' Down is often used with red 
point.' 

Bat this analog is not to be pressed, though it 
is sound as far as it goes. It applies, that is, up to 
a certain point in social evolution. Beyond that 
point the balance inclines the other way, and for 
the last five hundred years of European civilization 

» Biet. ofUankind, Eng. tr. 1896-8, i. ge. a Op. cit. 199. 

« Haddon, Head-hunUrt, 1901, p. 266. 

* Brooke Low, in JAl xxii. (1892) 41. 
> Im Ihuro, op. eit. 196 fl. 



decorative dress has been confined to women. Dur- 
ing a previous period of some centuries — to be 
regarded as one of unstable equilibrium — not only 
did the curve of luxury in dress reach its highest 
point, but there were attempts — spasmodic, it is 
true — to put down any tendency towards such 
luxury on the part of women, prostitutes being 
excepted. The previous stage — one of very con- 
siderable length — is still that of Islam ; its signifi- 
cance and origin will concern us later. Its chief 
feature was the principle that female dress should 
be not ornamental, but protective — of the rights of 
the husband. Thus we may infer that, in the 
latest stage, woman as a sex has not only gained 
freedom, and the right to fascinate, previously pos- 
sessed by the courtesan alone, but has also shifted 
the equilibrium of sex to a more permanent and 
efficient position. The story of woman's uncon- 
scious struggle for a monopoly of beauty in dress 
thus illustrates an important social movement. 

In practical investigation it is difficult, as Katzel ' 
observes, to say ' where clothing ends and orna- 
ment begins,' or, on the previous hypothesis, where 
clothing springs out of ornament. Since either 
may obviously develop into the other when both 
are instituted, it is idle to examine such cases. 
Cases where one or the other is absolutely un- 
known might serve, but there are no examples of 
this. If an instance, moreover, of the presence 
of clothing and entire absence of ornament were 
observed, it would be impossible to argue that 
clothing cannot be subject to the decorative im- 
pulse. In any case, there is the self-feeling, satis- 
faction in individuality, to be reckoned with, for 
the impulse to finery is only one phase of it. 

The supporters of the ornamentation hypothesis 
of the ori^n of dress have an apparently strong 
argument in the Brazilians and the Central Aus- 
tralians. These recently studied peoples possess 
no clothing in the ordinjjj'y sense of the term. But 
they wear ornament, and on special occasions a 
great deal of it. Brazilian men wear a string 
round the lower abdomen, the women a strip of 
bark-cloth along the perineum, tied to a similar 
abdominal thread. This is sometimes varied by 
a small decorative enlargement. The Central 
Australian man wears a waist-string, to which is 
tied a pubic tassel. Corresponding to the last in 
the case of tlie women is a very small apron. 
Leaving the waist-string out of account, we have 
remaining the question of the erogenous centre. 
In both the decoration hypothesis and the conceal- 
ment hypothesis this centre is the focus of sijecula- 
tion. If the Australian tassel of the male sex and 
the leaf-like enlargement of the Brazilian woman's 
perineal thread are considered superficially, they 
may appear to be, if not ornaments, at least 
attractions. But if this be granted, it does not 
follow that we have here the first application of 
the idea of dress. 

It would be impossible to make out a case to 
prove that these appurtenances can ever have 
satisfied the idea oi concealment, as on the next 
hypothesis is assumed. This hypothesis is to the 
efi'ect that male jealousy instituted clothing for 
married women. Ratzel •* observes that, if clothing 
was originally instituted for purposes of protection 
only, the feet and ankles would have been pro- 
tected first. Clothing, he holds, stands in unmis- 
takable relation to the sexual life. ' The first to 
wear complete clothes is not the man, who has to 
dash through the forest, but the married woman.' 
The primary function of her dress is to render her 
unattractive to others, to conceal her body from 
other men's eyes. In the lower strata of iiuman 
evolution he considers that dress as a protection 
from rain and cold is far less common. 

i Op. eit. i. 06. » lb. I tat 



<4S 



DRESS 



But, if we may arguo from the practice of exist- 
ing 8avu);u8, this hyputhesis cuniiut liold even of 
the oriKin of female clotliiiig. Only by straining 
can it be applied to that of men. It is certainly a 
wro causa, at a certain stage in barbarism (the 
•tege when wives became ' property '), of the cus- 
toms of shrouding and veiling women, and of 
oonfiscaling all a maiden's omamcntR and tincry 
when she became a wife. But it does not explain 
the origin of the small apron worn in very early 
stages, or of the mere thread in the earliest, and 
we cannot deny these articles a place in the category 
of dress. 

A froq^uent corollary of such views is that 
modesty is a result, not a cause, of clothing (so 
Sergi). But, as Ilavelock Ellis observes, 
*many racca which go absolutely naked possess a highly de- 
veloped sense of modesty.' * Andamanese women 'are ao 
modest that they will not renew their leaf aprons in the pres- 
ence of one another, but retire to a secluded spot for this pur- 
pose; even when parting with one of their ftdd-appendages 
(tails of leaves suspended from the back of the girdle] to a 
female friend the delicacy they manifest for the feelings of the 
bystanders in their mode of removing it almost amounts to 
irudishness' ; yet they wear no clothing in the ordinary senso.s 
The Qulana Indians, when they want to change their single gar- 
ment, either retire from sight or put the new over the old, and 
then withdraw the lattcr.3 Modesty is 'in its origins inde- 
pendent of clothing; . . . physiological modesty takes pre- 
cedence of anatonncal modesty ; and the primary factors of 
modesty were probably developed long before the discovery of 
either ornaments or garments. The rise of clothing probably 
had its first psychic basis on an emotion of modesty already 
oompositely formed of ' these elemcnte.^ 

This last statement, of course, cannot hold of 
the ultimate genesis of clotliing. But, once in- 
stituted, it was sure to coincide with emotions of 
modesty. The general connexion between modesty 
and dress is a subject of little importance, except 
in so far as it has involved the creation of false 
modesty, both individually and socially. Modesty, 
where there is dress, tends to be concentrated upon 
it meclianically. When clothing is once estab- 
lished, the growth of the conception of women as 
property emphasizes its importance, and increa'ses 
the anatomical modesty of women. Waitz held 
that male jealousy is the primary origin of clotli- 
ing, and therefore of modesty. Diderot had held 
this view. Often married women alone are clothed. 
It is as if before marriage a woman was free and 
naked ; after marriage, clothed and a slave. 

' The garment appears— illogically, though naturally-a moral 
and physical protection against any attack on his [the husband's] 
property.'* 

But the fact of dress serving as concealment 
involved the possibility of attraction by mystery. 
Even when other emotions than modesty, em- 
phasized by male jealousy, intervene, they may 
work together for sexual attraction. 

' The social fear of arousing disgust combines easily and per- 
fectly with any, new development in the invention of ornament 
or clothing as sexual lures. Even among the most civilized 
races it has often been noted that the fashion of feminine gar- 
ments (as also sometimes the use of scents) has the double ob- 
ject of concealing and attracting. It is so with the little apron 
of the young savage belle. The heightening of the attraction is 
™>ee<' a logical outcome of the fear of evoking disgust.' 8 

Siiiiilarly we find in the most primitive clotliing 
a curious interchange of concealment, protection, 
decoration, and advertisement. As has been hinted, 
when an appurtenance has come to be attaclied to 
the sexual area, the resulting psychical reactions 
are significant. In the previous natural sUge 
there is no artificial stimulus ; now, there is such 
an addition to tlie natural stimulus, first by mere 
attraction or signification, and later by decoration 
or veiling. In t"-ie mind of the subject also there 
comes, first, the consciousness of sex, and later the 
enhancing of self-feeling, which in the case of dress 
generally, and not merely sexual, is distributed 
throughout the personality. The subject's material 

' Sludiei in the Psi/chotogv qf Sex, I (1887) 6. 

> Man, In y^l/ xii. (1882-83) 94, 831. 

J Im Thum, op. e«. 194. * u. Ullis, op. cU. 1. 87. 



|>ersonality is increased by clothing, and his psychi- 
cal reaction is proportional to this. The result is 
a rich complex of self -consciousness, modesty, and 
self-feeling generally, the balance between them 
varying according to circumstances. But it is 
highly improbable that such impulses could have 
led to the invention of dress, much less of mere 
attachments and appurtenances. Their only means 
of expression would have been ornament. 

Finally, there is ttia protection-hypothesis. Sud- 
den falls in the temiieraturo, rains and winds and 
burning sunshine, the danger of injuring the feet 
and the skin of the body generally when in the 
forest, and the need of bo*ly-armour against the 
attacks of insects and of dangerous animals seem 
obvious reasons for the invention of dress. But 
they do not explain the process of invention, which 
is the main problem. The cloak, the skirt, the 
apron, cannot have been invented in answer to a 
need, directly, without any stages. The inven- 
tion of cloth was first necessary, and this was sug- 
gested by some natural covering. The only line 
of development which seems possible is from pro- 
tective ligatures. There are numerous facts which 
apparently point to such an origin of clothing. 
One of the most characteristic 'ornaments' of 
savages all over the world is the armlet. It is 
quite probable that this has an independent origin 
in the decorative impulse, like the necklace. But 
here and there we find bands worn round the 
ankles, knees, wrists, and elbows, the object of 
which is clearly to protect the sinews and muscles 
from strains. The pain of a strained muscle being 
eased by the grip of the hand, the suggestion of 
an artificial grip might naturally follow, and a 
system of ligatures would be the result. 

Tlie Nagas wear black rings of cane round the knee — as some 
say, to give strength for clinibing.i The Malays wear bands and 
ligatures to protect the muscles and prevent strains, as, for in- 
sUnce, round the wrists and Ijelow the knee.'-' Katzel observes 
that ann-rings may be useful in striking and warding off blows. 
But the idea of a cestus is unlikely to be the primary motive for 
ligatures.3 The Chacos wearankleUi of feathers, chiefly to pro- 
tect their feet against snake-bites.* 

AVild peoples, in fact, understand quite well the 
limitations and the capacity of the human organ- 
ism in respect to the environment. We may 
credit them with an adequate system of supply- 
ing natural deficiencies, and of assisting natural 
advantages also. For instance, the Malays ex- 
plain the object of the papoose for infants as Ijeing 
to prevent the child from starting and so straining 
itself.* And it seems probable that there is a con- 
nexion between the earlier use of the ligature 
and the prevalent custom of wearing metal rings 
or wire as a decoration. Men and women of the 
Watusi wear round the ankles innumerable coils of 
iron wire, representing a weij'ht of many pounds. 
The women wear heavy bracelets of brass.* It is 
possible, also, that in certain cases tlress itself 
might have been developed from the same source. 
Thus, when we compare the following type of 
body-dress with the frequent use, in earlier stages, 
of a pliant bough or cane as a girdle, we can ■ 
imagine the possibility tliat the invention of the 
sheet-form of covering might have been delayed 
by the extension of the baudage-form. 

The garment, termed lumiet, of the Sakarang women, is a 
series of cane hoops covered with innumerable small brass links. 
The series encasing the waist fits close. It sometimes extends 
right up to the breasts. The Ulu Ai and Ngkari women wear 
eight to ten parallel rows of large brass rings round the waist. 
They arc strung on rattans, and tixed to a cane network inside 
them. Dense coils of thick brass wire are also worn on the 
legs.' 



1 T. a Hodson, The Niga Tribes of Manipur, 1911, p. 23. 
» Skeat-Slagden, Pagan Raoea of the Malay PeiUnmla, 1900, 
i. 140. 
> Ratzel, op. oit. I. 99. * Orubb, op. cit. 262. 

6 Skeat, Malay Magic, 1900, p. 33S. 
U Decle, in JAl xxiii. (1883) 426. 

7 Brooke Low, in JAI xxiL (1892) 40 L 



DBBSS 



But the ligature as a primary stage of sheet- 
clotliiug might have developed merely by add- 
ing to its breadth. Given a girdle, we might 
8upix)se a natural enlargement of its depth. And 
among the various hands used by the lowest 
peoples there is a gradation of the kind. The 
anulets of the Indians of Guiana are broad cotton 
bauds or string.' Yet there is no evidence to show 
that such a development, from the belt to the 
kilt, has been the main origin of the skirt-form of 
dress. A skirt supplying its own belt is generally 
a late modihcation. 

Examination of the earliest peoples inevitably 
leads to a rejection of the ligature-hypothesis. 
Every consideration goes to show that the earliest 
ligature was not intended to support the muscles. 
It is inconceivable that the use of string in the 
Guiana example can be intended for such a pur- 
pose. In the next place, it must be borne in mind 
that the chief area of the organism with which 
dress proper is concerned is the central part of the 
body, the trunk. Now, the great majority of the 
lowest peoples known wear no clothes. Shelter 
is used instead. But there is very commonly a 
waist-string, and it is more used by men than by 
women. We assume that the girdle is the point 
of departure for the evolution of dress, and the 
mechanism of that departure will be presently dis- 
cussed. But for the origin of body-clothing it is 
necessary to find the origin of the girdle. The 
civilized idea of a girdle is to bind up a skirt or 
trousers. This is certainly not its object among 
the earliest peoples, who have nothing to tie up. 
It might be supposed that the original purpose of 
the girdle was that of the abdominal belt, useful 
both as a muscle-ligature and to alleviate the 
pangs of hunger. But the earliest girdles are 
merely strings, and string is useless for such pur- 
poses. String, moreover, made of grass or vege- 
table fibre, or animal sinew or human hair, is an 
earlier invention than the bandage. Its lirst form 
was actually natural, the pliant Lough or stem. 

It is significant that this waist-string is chiefly 
a male apjiendage, and that it is worn neither 
tight nor very loose. Both facts are explained bj 
the purpose for which the string is worn. It is 
neither a bandage nor a suspender, but a con- 
tinuous pocket. The savage finds it indispensable 
for carrying articles which he constantly needs, 
and which otherwise would encumber his hands. 
Once fitted with a waist-string, the body, as a 
machine, is enormou.sly improved, being able to 
carry the artificial aids of manual operations 
ready for use as occa-sion requires, without ham- 
pering the work of that universal lever, the hand. 

We can only speculate vaguely as to the series 
of ' accidents ' which led to the idea of the waist- 
string. It was, no doubt, analogous to the series 
which ended in the invention of artificial hands in 
the shape of weajjons and tools, but it was cer- 
tainly much later in time. Tlie varied uncon- 
scious ideas of holding, gripping, and encircling, 
which the muscular experience of the hand im- 
printed on the brain, might have evolved the 
principle and practice of a hold-all round the 
trunk, without the occurrence of any fortunate 
accidents whatever. The natural position of tlie 
hands when at rest would be rejected by uncon- 
wious reasoning in favour of a more convenient 
spot, slightly higher, which would not interfere 
with the movements of the legs. The downward 
tapering of the thigh, moreover, renders it im- 
possible to keep a string in position. In this 
connexion it is worth noting that knee- and ankle- 
bands are commonly used in various stages of 
culture for the purpose of holding implements. 

The waist-string, therefore, being earlier than 
1 Uu Ihura, up. eit. 197. 



clothing proper, and being, as we have suggested, 
the point of departure for the wearing of cover- 
ings, we have next to examine the mechanism of 
the connexion between them. The use of the 
string as a holder being given, it would serve not 
only as a pocket, but as a suspender for leaves or 
bunches of grass, if for any reason these were 
required. The point to be emphasized here is 
that the presence of a suspender would suggest 
the suspension and therefore the regular use of 
articles for which there had been no original de- 
mand. If, for occasional purposes, a decoration 
or covering was desired, there was the waist-string 
ready for use. Central as it was, the decoration 
or covering would fall below it and be thus applied 
automatically to the perineal region. Similarly, 
the hair of the head is a natural holder, though 
much less efficient, and it is used to support leaf- 
coverings or flower-decorations. 

It is unnecessary to enter upon a description of 
the various zones of the body which require pro- 
tection, such as the spine at the neck and in the 
small of the back, against sun and cold, or the 
mucous membranes of the perineal region, against 
insects. The use of clothing of certain textures 
and colours to maintain a layer of air about the 
skin at a temperature adapted to that of the body, 
and to neutralize those rays of light which are 
deleterious to the nervous system and destructive 
of protoplasm, is also out of place here. We may 
note, however, that by unconscious selection the 
evolution of dress has probably followed a thoroughly 
hygienic course. But no principles of such hygiene, 
except the very simplest, can have occurred to 
primitive man. One of the simplest, however, we 
may admit for tropical races — the use of a pro- 
tection against insects. The perineal region is 
most subject to their attacks when man is naked, 
owing to the sebaceous character of the surface 
and its relatively higher temperature. These facts, 
no doubt, more than anything else, are the ex- 
planation of primitive habits of depilation. But 
depilation is not a complete protection. Something 
positive is required. The use of bunches of grass 
or leaves is natural and inevitable, as soon as there 
is something to hold them, namely, the waist- 
string. A parallel method is the use of a second 
string depending from the waist-string in front 
and behind, and passing between the Tegs. The 
Brazilian strip of bast used by women, and the red 
thread which takes its place in the Trumai tribe, 
though ' they attract attention like ornaments 
instead of drawing attention away,' yet, as Von 
den Steinen ' also satisfied himself, provide a pro- 
tection against insects, a serious pest in the forests 
of Brazil. These inter-crural strings protect the 
mucous membrane, without, however, concealing 
the parts, as do leaves and grass. In the jwesent 
connexion their chief interest is the use made of 
the waist-string. When cloth was invented, the 
first form of the loin-cloth was an extension of the 
inter-crural thread. It may be illustrated from 
the Indians of British Guiana, though it is prac- 
tically universal, significantly enough, among 
tropical and sub-tropical peoples. 

Tho Guiana man wears a narrow strip, called tap ; it ia passed 
between the legs, and the ends are brought up at back and front 
and suspended on a rope-like belt. The women wear an apron, 
called queyu, hung from a string round the waist. Very young 
children before wearing a cloth have a string round the waist. 
Ttie lap is often made of l^rk, beaten till soft.*'' The lap 
method is employed by the Veddas of Ceyion.i' and by numeroufl 
early races throughout the world. 

As the various methods of drafjing and tying 
developed with man's familiarity with sheet-dress, 

1 Unter den Naturmfkem Zentral-IirasUiens, Berlin, 1894, 
p. 190 f. For other protective coverings for the organs, against 
insects, see Wilken-Pleyte, Handkkiing voor de vergelijkeiida 
Volkenkunde van Nederlandsch-liidu, Leyden, 1893, p. 37 f. 

» Im Thum, op. cit. 191. 

> Q. O. and B. Z. tjeligmann, The Veddat, 1911, p. 93. 



44 



DRESS 



the later form of loin-cloth naturally superseded the 
earlier. A length of cloth passed round tlie waist 
and between tlie legs, the ends dopondinc, was 
both more convenient and more comfortable. In 
the lirst place it supplied a brosider bandace, and, 
being two articles in one, was more easily kept in 
position. This is the familiar and widely prevalent 
' loin-cloth.' Secondly, it supplied a more efficient 
method of binding the male organs. There is no 
doubt that the naked male often finds it desirable, 
for obvious anatomical reasons which do not 
trouble the animal (wliose organs are practically 
withdrawn into the perineal surface), to confine 
these parts. Hence, it may be conjectured, the 
use of a perineal cloth for men and of a mere 
apron or skirt for women — a distinction of the 
earliest date and generally maintained. As showing 
the practice of such confinement, it is enough to 
point to a common use of the earlier waist-string. 
The end of the organ is placed under the string, 
made tight enough to hold it flat against the 
abdomen.' 

The development of the apron and skirt is a 
simple extension (given the suspensory string and 
the invention of cloth) of the use of leaves hung 
from the waist. The frequent use of a rear-apron 
as a sitting-mat is a later detail, having no in- 
fluence upon the skirt, which developed inde- 
pendentljr. A frequent variation is the fringe. A 
combination of front- and rear-aprons no doubt 
preceded the complete skirt. When the latter 
was developed, new methods of suspension were 
adopted, among them being one similar to that of 
the loin-cloth, the upper edge serving as a bandage. 
The use of the waist-string by women, for keeping 
an inter-crural cloth or tampon in place during the 
periods, may be referred to ; but it did not lead 
to the development of any article of attire. One 
example of its use, however, is instructive, as 
showing how a temporary protection may pass 
into a regular appendage. 

Among the majority of the Nyasa tribes a woman during 
her periods wears a small piece of calico corresponding to a 
diaper. The same is worn after childbirth. This is the case 
generally in Nyasaland. But Angoni women 'always wear 
them.''.* 

The protection-hypothesis of the origin of dress 
may thus be adopted, if wo qualify it by a scheme 
of development as suggested above. When once 
instituted as a custom, the wearing of leaves or 
bark-cloth upon the abdominal region served to 
focus various psychical reactions. One of the 
earliest of these was the impulse to emphasize the 
primary sexual characters. It is an impulse shown 
among the great majority of early races in their 
observances at the attainment of puberty, and it 
is, as a rul6, at that period that sexual dress or 
ornament is assumed. Among civilized peoples, 
in the Middle Ages and in modem times, the 
impulse is well marked by various fashions — the 
phallocrypt and the tail of the savage having their 
European analogues. A less direct but even more 
constant instance of the same recognition is the 
assigning of the skirt to women as tlie more seden- 
tary, and trousers to men as the more active sex. 
The suggestion sometimes met with, that the skirt 
is an adaptation for sexual protection, need only be 
mentioned to be dismissed. The Central Australian 
pubic tassel and similar appendages will here find 
significance, but it is improbable that such accen- 
tuation was their original purpose. Once instituted 
for protection, the other ideas followed. Another 
of these, which at once received an artificial focus, 
was the emotion of modesty. It has been observed 
among the higher animals that the female by 
various postures guards the sexual centres from 
the undesired advances of the male. The assump- 

• See Wilkcn.pleyte, 88. 

» H. 8. 8UU1UUS, JAI xl. (1010) 321. 



tion of a waist-cloth does not actually serve the 
same purpose, but it constitutes a )iermanent 
psychical suggestion of inviolability. Similarly, 
the use of any appendage or covering involves the 
possibility of attraction, either by mere notification, 
by the addition of decoration, or, later, by the 
suggestion of mystery. 

Further than this speculation as to origins need 
not be carried. The various forms and fashions 
of dress, and the customs connected with it, will 
supply examples of the material as well as of the 
psychological evolution of the subject. 

2. Material and form. — It is proposed to describe 
the types of human dress and the materials of 
which it has been composed only so far as is 
necessary to illustrate the religious and social 
significance of dress as an index to psychological 
evolution. 

If dress be taken to include anything worn on 
the person other than offensive and defensive 
armour, there is hardly a single known substance, 
from iron to air, which has not for one reason or 
another been employed ; while for purposes of 
decoration or protection against the 8ui)ernatural, 
tlie very utmost use has been made of the natural 
covering of the organism, in the way of hair-dress, 
skin-painting, and tatuing, and the wearing of 
ornaments and amulets on or in the projecting 

foints of the body, particularly various orifices, 
n the earlier stages two features are prominent — 
the savage \a apt to regard anything he wears as 
an ornament, though it may be actually a protec- 
tion. Also, the less body-covering there is, the 
greater tendency to painting, scarification, and 
tatuing. • Having,' as Gautier said, ' no clothes 
to embroider, they embroider themselves.' As 
examples of the earliest stages the following are 
typical : 

The Niam-Niam negress wears a single leaf only, suspended 
by a string from the waist-l The Indians of Central Brazil 
wear a string round the lower abdomen. It is worn after 
puberty, but it conceals nothing, of course. The women wear 
a little strip of bast passing between the legs ; in some tribes 
the xUuri, a triangular decorative piece of bark bast, is wom.2 
' Except for waist-bands, forehead-bands, necklets, armlets, and 
a conventional pubic tassel, shell, or, in the case of the women, 
a small apron, the Central Australian native is naked.' The 
waist-string is made of human hair. The pubic tassel is a fan- 
shaped structure of fur-strings, about the size of a five shilling 
piece. Being covered at corrobboree times with gypsum, it 
serves as a decoration rather than a covering. The Arunta and 
Luritcha women do not wear even an apron.S In the Western 
islands of Torres Straits the men are naked ; the women wear 
a tuft of grass or split pandanus leaves ; for dancing, a short 
]3etticoat of shred pandanus leaves is worn over this.* In 
Samoa the only necessary garment was for men and women 
an apron of leaves.B 

The New Ireland men * go abeolutel}^ naked ' ; the women wear 
aprons of grass, suspended from cinctures made of beads 
Strung on threads of aloe-leaves- A bonnet of palm leaves is 
also worn by the women. 6 The Australians ol the South show 
an advance on those of the Centre. The Euahlayi woman's 
goomillah is a waist-string of opossum-sinew, with strands of 
hair in front. The Central Australian woman has not even a 
string. The Euahlayi man's waywah is a belt, six inches wide, 
of sinews and hair, with four tufts. Opossum-skin rugs are 
worn in winter.'' 

Among the Curetu of the Amazons, the men wore a girdle of 
woollen thread, but the women were entirely naked. The 
neighbouring Ouaycurus reversed the custom, the men being 
naked and the women wearing a short petticoat.^ In other 
tribes of the same region both sexes were quite nude.^ 

' The costume .and ornamentation prevalent with the Lower 
Con^o men is principally contincd to a grass loin-cloth, and 
mutilation of the two mcisor teeth of the upper jaw ; the women 
wear a small apron in front and behind, and ear decorations 
of wood and metal. 10 The Garo petticoat was less than a foot 
in depth. To allow freedom of movement it was fastened 
only at the upper comers-^i The Wankonda men wear nothing 

1 Katzel, i. 94. > K. von den Steinen, 190L 

» 8pcncer-Gillen«, 670, 672. 

* Iladdon, in JAI xix. (1890) 308, 431. 

5 Turner, Samoa, 1884, p. 121. 

A. J. Duffleld, in JdJ xv. (18S6)117. 

7 K. Langloh I'arkcr, The Euahlayi Tribe, 1906, p. 120 f. 

8 O. K. Markham, In JAI x\. 08, 101. 

» Ib.v. 122. 10 H. Ward, in J A I xxiv. (1894) E9S. 

11 E. T. Ualton, Ethnoityp <>/ Bengal, 1872, p. 60. 



DRESS 



45 



but a ring of brass wire round the abdomen. The women wear 
a tiny bead-work apron, exactly resembling that of the Kaffirs.! 
The women at Upoto wear no clothes whatever.2 In the Short- 
lands the men are naked ; the women wear leaves in a waist- 
string. In New Britain both sexes are nude.s Of Central 
Africa, Angus gives as his experience ; the more naked the 
people and the more to us obscene and shameless their manners 
and customs, the more moral and strict they are in the matter 
of sexual intercourse.'' The fact should be noted, in leaving 
the subject of the scantiest form of dress, as being a regular 
concomitant of nakedness. 

Variations of the most opposite character in the 
same stage of culture are a frequent problem. In 
some cases they may be accounted for by foreign 
influence. But any accident may institute a 
fashion. Thus, the Upoto women are entirely 
nude ; ° but among the Akikuyu the smallest girl 
wears an apron." 

In tropical countries the use of leaves as occa- 
sional or permanent garments is regular. Several 
peoples, such as the East Indian islanders, in Ceram, 
for example, and the Polynesians, elevated the 
practice into an art. Noticeable details are the 
single-leaf head-dress, and leaves fixed in arm- 
bands. 

The Samoans wore girdles of fi-leaves (Cordyline terminoiw), 
gathered when turning yellow.7 Adorned with flowers, their 
figures were a notable example of adaptation to island scenery. 
The Niam-Niam ne^ress wears a leaf tied to a girdle.** Paliyan 
women are sometimes dressed in a leaf-girdle only. Go^d 
women wear bunches of twigs round the waist. The Judngs 
of Chota Nagpur are famous for their leaf-dresses. When dry 
and crackly, they are changed for fresh leaves.^ The Semangs 
of the Malay Peninsula wear girdles of leaves. On festive occa- 
sions, ligatures of Licuata leaf were used to hold flowers on the 
arms ; flowers were also fastened in the girdle and the head- 
fillet, both made of this leaf. The Sakai wear a waist-cord 
from which leaves depend in a fringe.^0 This is retained under 
the cloth sarong. At feasts their dress is like that of the 
Semang, a wreath of leaves or a turban of cloth being indif- 
ferently used. The dancing-dress of the Jakun is made of the 
leaves of the gerdang palm, and consists of an elaborate fringed 
head-dress, a bandolier, and belt. Leaf -aprons are still worn by 
Koragar women, n 

Another natural covering is bark. 

* In tropical regions'of both hemispheres, where scanty cloth- 
ing is needed, certain trees weave their inner bark into an 
excellent cloth, the climax of which is the celebrated tapa of 
Polynesia.' 12 Taken from the wauki, or paper-mulberry (Morus 
pap^/era),^3 the Ijark was beaten to a soft consistency. In 
tropical Africa a species of Brachyttegia (Order Leguminosce) is 
generally used as a source of bark-cloth. The bark is made into 
Kilts, cloths, band-boxes, canoes, roofing, and various useful 
articles.!^ The Ouiana Indian wears sandals of the leaf stalk of 
the aeta ]>alm (Mauritia jUxuosa). They are made in a few 
minutes, and careful measurements are taken. They wear out 
in a few hours. W 

The Kayans use bark-cloth, which they dye red and yellow.^ 
Throughout Eastern Asia, the Malay Archipelago, and Polynesia, 
the girdle of bark-cloth is widely diffused, llie Sakai hammer 
the bark of the ipoh tree (^Aniiaru toxicaria) and of the wild 
breadfruit (Artocarpus) so as to expel the sap. It is then 
washed and dried. The loin-cloth made of this by the Semang 
Is the loin-cloth proper, folded round the waist, and tucked 
through the front after passing between the legs. Both this 
and the women's fringe of leaves are worn under the Malay 
tonm^, where this has been introduced. i? 

The Woolwa Indians make their clothes, the tounoo and the 
sleeping-sheet, from the bark of trees. The women beat this 
on a smooth log with a mallet shapefl like a club and having 
grooves which give to the bark-cloth the texture and appear- 
ance of a mesh. The better sort of garments are made of 
stout cotton, of many colours and mixed with the down and 
feathers of birds. i^ Watusi women wear bark-cloth fastened 
above the breasts and falling below the knees.^^ Former!)^ the 
Veddas of Ceylon made bark-cloth from the riti (Antiaris 
tnnoxUi).^ 

> Sir H. H. Johnston, BritUh Central Africa, 1897, p. 408 ff. 

«T. H. Parke, Eq\Mtorial Africa 1891, p. 61. 

' G. Brown, Metanenam and Polynerians, 1910, pp. 202, 310. 

* ZE vi. (1898) 479. » H. Ward, I.e. 

• Routledge, With a PrehMoric People, 1910, p. 139. 
1 a. Brown, 816. e Ratzel, !. 94. 

• W. Orooke, Thingi Indian, 1906, p. 156 1. 

1* Skeat-Blagden, 1. 63, 142, 364, ii. 118, 124, 130 f. 
" J. H. Campbell, in I A ixiv. (1896) 164. 
l> O. T. Mason, In Amer. Anthropologist, vil. (1894) 144. 
1* E. Trege&r, Maori Comparative Dictionary (Wellington, 
K.Z., 1891), s.v. ; tapa is the iapa of the Ilawaiians. 
14 J A I xxii. (1892) 145, reprint from the Kew Bulletin. 
" Im Thurn, 195. '« Hose, in JAl xxiU. (1893) 165. 

" Skeat-Blagden, i. 140 IT., 151. 
M H. A. Wicltham, in JAI xxiv. (1894) 203L 
1» L. Decle, in J A I xxiii. (1894) 426. 
» a O. U)d B. Z. Selignuuin, »a 



The * shirt-tree ' of Brazil is a Lecythis. Its pliant bark is 
easily stripped. From a length of the trunk a cylinder of bark 
is taken, and beaten soft. Two arm-holes are cut, and it is 
ready for wear.i The bark of the ' sacking-tree ' is still used 
for clothes in Western India. The men of the Abors of Assam 
wear loin-cloths of bark. Bark-cloth was worn by the ancient 
Hindu ascetics.2 

Various circumstances, which need not be de- 
tailed, make certain peoples adopt leather or fur 
garments. Against cold and rain tliese are still 
unsurpassed. 

The men of the Akamba wore cloaks of ox-hide before the 
introduction of trade-blankets.3 The Masai wore dressed skins 
before cotton cloth was introduced.* The only garment of a 
Chaco Indian woman is a skin petticoat, but in cold weather a 
mantle of skins is worn.' The Ainus use bear-skins for cloth- 
ing.6 Arctic and sub-Arctic peoples, like the Eskimo, have made 
fur-dress into a very perfect covering. 

Such ready-made articles of early dress con- 
tained both the suggestion and the material of 
manufactured cloth. The animal, insect, and 
vegetable worlds were gradually exploited for the 
purpose. Animals like the sheep and the llama, 
trees like the palm, have both supported man and 
inspired his invention. Thus from the Mauritia 
palm the natives of the Orinoco derived wood for 
building ; from its leaf they made clothing, fisliing 
nets, and hammocks. Its sap supplied a fermented 
drink.' Materials which have complex possibilities 
are more likely to encourage the inventive impulse 
than is sheer necessity. ' Weaving is the next art, 
after agriculture and building, to acquire economi- 
cal importance.'* The hair of domesticated animals 
superseded skins ; cotton and linen superseded 
leaves, grass-matting, and the rougher vegetable 
libres, palm, aloe, hemp, and the like. With the 
introduction of an artificial dress-material the 
savage stage of the evolution comes to an end. 
But for various reasons many barbarian peoples 
draw at times upon the old natural fabrics. In 
some cases, like that of the Sakai leaf-girdle,' it 
is regularly used in combination with woven mater- 
ial. The earliest stages of the barbarian period 
are illustrated by the following typical account of 
home-made fabric, dye, and dress. 

The dress of the Fulas is ' universally the cotton cloths made 
by themselves out of the plants grown in almost every village ; 
it is carded by an instrument, probably imported, which is 
very much like a wire brush about 8 inches by 9 inches, and 
woven on an ingenious loom.' The cotton is dyed blue with 
indigo, cultivated by the natives, and is marked by a white 
pattern produced by tying portions of the cloth together before 
dipping it.io 

It is significant that in these stages the form of 
the material leads to actualization of its possi- 
bilities, and emphasizes simultaneously covering, 
concealment, and decoration. The third type of 
the perineal garment becomes regular : namely, for 
men, the loin and inter-crural cloth combined in 
one length, and for women the folded petticoat. 
For example, the ordinary garment of Fula women 
is a single cloth, either folded round and tucked in 
under the arms or wound round the waist, leaving 
the breast exposed." This type has been largely 
used by both sexes. In an extended form it is the 
sarong of the Malays. The loin-cloth of men is 
the maro of the Polynesians. Both garments have 
tlie same method of fastening — a double or treble 
wrapping round the waist. From it have developed 
the suspended or belted skirts of women and kilts 
of men. A combination of this principle with that 
of the shoulder-MTap leads to the tunic and robes 
generally. The toga-form of the outer robe is 
an echo, in its method of wrapping, of tlie earliest 
folded garment for the lower body. The loin- 
1 Ratzel, i. 96. 2 Crooke, 157. 

' C. W. Hobley, Ethnology of A-Kamba, Cambridge, 1910, 
p. 40. 
4 Hollis, The Masai, 1905, p. 301. » Grubb, 69. 

« Frazer, Gm, IWJO, ii. 375. 

' E. .1. Payne, History of the New World called Amvriaa, 
Oxford, 1892, 1. 309. 
8 lb. i. 369. 9 See preccd. column. 

10 G. F. Scott EUiot, in JAI xxiii. (1898) 801. 

11 lb. 8L 



M 



DRESS 



cloth proper of the male box has an extremely 
wide prevalence.' 

A* an example, tbe (ounoo of tho Wnoln-a Indians, or palpra 
at th* Hoaqultoa, la a cloth, 24 inches wide, worn bv nien round 
tiM mitt, the ends liein); paiuod between the logs, and bansdng 
down in front to beluw Uie Itncc.'J The Ijatcal of tbe East 
Indian Islands la a barlt cloth or manufactured cloth twice 
wound round the waist and then passed between the legs from 
baoll to front, the end haiit^iug over centrally. It sometimes 
•unriTe* into early ciriliiation, as among the Hindus. 

With improvement in cloth and consequent 
increase in liglitness and folding capacity, a modi- 
fication was made by many peoples, namely, in 
the omission of the inter-crural method. Exter- 
nally there is little ditlcrence in appearance except 
for the greater volume of the newer fashion. 
The two styles are often confused under the 
term ' loin-cloth.' The second is the kain of the 
Indonesians, developing into the sarong of the 
Malays. 

From the loin-cloth proper were developed 
drawers and trousers, a type oi garment not seldom 
found among women instead of the petticoat. In 
all these later extensions of the idea of a loose and 
modifiable artificial skin, the earliest addition to 
the natural surface, the primitive waist-string, is 
still visible. As a girdle and belt it supports 
various garments ; by creating folds it supplies 
once more its original purpose as a pocket. 
Mantles, cloaks, and cai)8 in the barbarian stages 
are confine<l to their particular purpose, protection 
against rain, wind, and sun. In the latest civiliza- 
tions their use becomes regular for outdoor life j 
the barbarian cloak is duplicated into the coat and 
the overcoat ; the cap into the hat and the umbrella. 
Of the tribes of Nyasaland it is reported that 
' the amount of clothing worn varies very con- 
siderably, from nothing to European garments. ' ' 
Such a case will serve to combine in one short 
view some of the contrasts of the various stages 
and some of the principles of dress. 

The young children of the Yao and Angoni run 
naked. Sometimes one has a strip of cloth sus- 
pended from the waist-string. A man wears a 
similar loin-cloth, and a woman an apron, eighteen 
inches deep. Both are suspended from the waist- 
string. Tlie more prosperous men wear calico 
from the waist to the knee, wrapped round tlie 
body and held by a belt. Sometimes it is extended 
to fold across the chest. Women wear a cloth 
folded across the upper part of the chest. Often 
men and women have two cloths, one for the waist, 
the other for the chest. The Angoni wear the 
latter toga-fashion, a fold being carried on the 
left arm. A chief wears three such togas — blue, 
white, and another colour. European calico is now 
used ; formerly bark-cloth and skins. Men now 
wear a turban, introduced by Arabs. In the house 
a woman still wears only a bead apron.* 

In spite of the underlying similarity of principles, 
universally found, dress more than any external 
feature distinguishes race from race and tribe from 
tribe. While distinguishing a social unit it em- 
phasizes its internal solidarity. In tliis latter 
sphere there is, again, room for individual dis- 
tinction. Some types of racial and communal 
costume may bo sketched. 

'The ordinary >n ale attire [of the Dayaks of Borneo] consists of a 
tirat or waist-cloth, a labong or head-dress, and a takai biiritt or 
teat' mat ; the full dress rx>n>iists of the above with the addition of 
nUomW or Jacket, and a dangdong or shawl.' The female attire 
it » bUang or short- petticoat : when out of doors, a klambi or 
iaoket is added.o The tirat (chawat of the Malays) 6 is six yards 
long, but young men wear it as long as twelve or fourteen 
yanis, twisting and coiling it ' with great precision round and 
round their body until the waist and stomach are fully en. 
Teloped in its folds. ... A practised eye can tell in a moment 

> See Wilken-Pleyte, 39. « H. A. Wlckham, J A I xxiv. 208 
»8Unnua,inJ.</xl. (1010)320. */(<. 320IT. 

•Brooke Low, JAl xxii. ;«), 40. The jacket is prolmbly 
derived trom the Muhamniadans. It It laid aside for work. 
• This it tbe Ioio.clatb proper, not the kain. 



to what tribe or section of a tribe an individual belongs, not 
merely by the length of his waist-cloth and the way in which it 
is wound on, but also by iU colour and the fashion in which it 
is decorated at its extremities.' Tlie labong is a cloth a yard or 
two in length, and worn as a turban, but one end stands up 
straii^ht from tho forehead, 8omo wear a cap, selajatk, made of 
plaited rush or cane. The takai buriet is a small mat tic<i witll 
string round the waist so as to cover the hindquarters and 
serve as a portable seat. It is made of split cane. The klanM 
ibaju of Malays) is of home-^wn cotton. The sleeves are open 
under the armpits. There is a great variety of f^hions in the 
cut and oolour of the klambi. The dangduiig is stung over one 
shoulder. Tho bidang is a petticoat reaching from waist to 
knee, folded over in front and tucked in on one side. The 
klambi is like that of the men, but larger. Marriageable girls 
wear chaplets of odoriferous berries.i 

The Ka^an petticoat is of>cn on one side to enable the wearer 
to walk with f reedoni.2 This is a general result of the * natural ' 
petticoat folded round the hips. 

The skin garmentt of North American Indiana oomprite a 
skirt of bucksldn with a belt, leggings attached to the belt, 
moccasins, socks of sage-brush, and Uie skin robe or shawl, 
generally superseded by the blanket.^ The only difference 
between the dress of the two sexes is that the women's skirt 
reaches below the knee, the men's to the middle of the thigh, 
and that the coiffure is not tbe same. 

The male Sanioyed wears ' a tunic with the hair inside, which 
is called the militza. It is an ample garment reaching below 
the knee, but in cold weather the Samoyed girds it up round 
his waist with a leathern girdle of an unusually decorative 
character, and thus, leaving it baggy round the upper part of 
his body, secures to himself a layer of warm air. He wears 
breeches of deerskin and hoo\A (piinmies) oi deerskin. Tliia it 
' undoubtedly tho best form of Arctic boot that we know.' In 
severe weather he wears over all a tovik, a larger tunic, with 
the hair outside, and a hood.4 

Among the Malagasy tbe salaka of the men corresponds to 
the maro of Polynesia, the loin-cloth which is int^r-crural ; the 
kitamby of the women corresponds to tho parit of Polynesia, 
the short apron. The upper garment is very distinctive. This 
is the lamha, a toga-like mantle, hung over the left arm by 
men, over the right by women. The women wear also an upper 
garment or blouse.^ The Morocco Berbers wear ' a piece of oblong 
white blanket or dark blue cotton with a longitudinal slit in 
the centre for the head—like the Mexican poncho.' The women 
fasten a skirt-cloth over this on the left hip. 'A to<;a-like 
arrangement of a light blanket serves as overall.* The k/tanee/^ 
a thick black waterproof cloak of goat-hair, with a hood, is the 
most characteristic (garment. On the back is an assegai-shaped 
yellow patch denoting the clan. Round the shaven head is 
worn a band of flannel, cotton, or camel-hair.6 

The dress of Korean women is a pair of very full white cotton 
trousers, almost a divided skirt, and over these a very full 
skirt, tied under the arms. In summer, basket-work frames ore 
worn on the arms, back, and chest, under the robes, to keep 
the latter clean and also for the soke of coolness.7 'The 
trousers of Korean, Turkish, and the women of various other 
peoples is probably, as the term ' divided skirt ' suggests, not 
lineally descended from the trews, but a later application of the 
principle to the skirt. 

The basis of men's dress in India is the d/ioti. It is a loin- 
cloth passed round the loins and between the legs in the 
universal manner. Tlie typical garment for women is the sari. 
It may be worn round the shoulders and draped over the head.8 
Ten or fifteen yards long, it is wound round the waist first, and 
then brought gracefully over the shoulder. A bodice is worn 
underneath the sdri, and some women have adopted the 
Muhammadan fashion of wearin;^ drawers. The men's upper 
garment, the nttarij/a, is worn somewhat like a toga. Genemlly 
an under-jocket, aiigarakfa (body-protector), is worn under- 
neath, A scarf for cold weather is carriwi on the arm. The 
long coat of calico, usually worn by servants, apparently is a 
compromise, like the frocic coat elsewhere, between the jacket 
and the toga. The turban was borrowed from the Muham- 
madans,^ In fact, throughout parts of India * all external dis- 
tinctions have been effaced between Hindus and Musalm&ns,' 
the only mark often being that ' the former buttons his tunic 
on the right hand, and the latter on the side of his heart.' 10 

The characteristic male attire in Islam consists of the turban, 
white cotton drawers or full trousers, the qamxs, or shirt, the 
kaftdn, or coat, the tunai, or scarf. The qainis corresponds to 
the Greek x*-r^' *"d the Heb. k^tdneth ; the ka/tdn to tbe 



1 Brooke Low, l.c. 36, 37, 38, 40. 
s C. Hose, in JAl xxxiii. (1893) 167, 

' J. Teit, The Thompson River Indians o/ British Columbia 
Boston, 1898, p. 2. 
* Montellore, in JAlxxiv. (1895) 402. 
» W. Ellis, Hist, of Madagascar, 1838, i, 278 f. 
« J. E. B. Meakin, in JAl xxiv. (1896) 11, 12. 

7 H. 8. Saundcrson, in JAl xxiv. 303. 

8 Crooke, 158 f, ; Monier- Williams, lirdhiiutnism and BindU- 
ismi, 1891, p. 395 0. 

B Dubois-Beauchamp, Hindu Manners, Customs, and Cers- 
monies, Oxford, 1897, p. 326. 

I'Orooke, 163 (Mr. Crooke refers the writer to the follow- 
ing passages, and corrects Dubois' error [Hindu Manners, p. 
326] In stating that the Musalraan fastens his coat on the right, 
the Brahman on the left) ; B, Chunder, Travels of a HiiuUjo, 
1869, 11. 374 ; J. F, Wat«on, Textile Hantffactures and Cot- 
tumei of India, L (1866) 55, 



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47 



k 



ilidrtov, Ileb. m^'i/.i The turban, generally of muslin, may be 
from sixty to seventy yards long:. The tarbush and the fez are 
other forms of head-gear. 

Pollux gives a classic account of ancient Greek, 
and Varro of ancient Italian dress.' It is signifi- 
cant, sociologically, that the classic type, char- 
acterized by the loose tunic and toga, which with 
some differences was that chiefly affected by the 
great Oriental races, and is adapted both to the 
Oriental ideal of repose and to the classic ideal 
of aristocratic contemplation, was discarded, as 
the Empire developed into the States of Europe, 
in favour of what the Greeks styled barbarian 
dress, chiefly characterized by trousers — a dress 
adapted to activity. Trousers, the Sanskrit 
ehalana, ha<l been connected in India, as now in the 
East Indian Archipelago, with the dress of warriors 
and chiefs.' 

The early Hebrews, like the Egyptians, wore the 
loin-cloth, originally, according' to monuments of 
the latter, of the lap form. Drawers developing 
from this were first used as a priestly garment. 
Together with all Semitic peoples and the bar- 
barians of Europe, they differed from Greek peoples 
in this one garment, though becoming assimilated 
in the tunic and mantle. The aadin was a shirt. 
Generally it was of the Greek type, and formed 
indoor dress. Overlapping by means of the girdle, 
it provided a pocket ; it was slit at each side for 
ease in walking. The outer garment had two types, 
the long coat, corresponding to the l/iinov, and 
the full-dress cloak, the m' il, worn by wealthy 
persons and the priests. Both deserted the toga 
type in possessing sleeves. It was similar, gener- 
ally, to the Chinese and Mubammadan long coat.* 
The early Christians wore the ordinary dress of 
the country. They always evinced a strong feeling 
against luxury, (li8i)lay, and immodesty in dress." 
This is to be attributed not merely to their revolt 
against Imperial paganism and its luxury and vice, 
but to their own class-feeling and class-prejudice, 
an impulse of the pride in lower class conditions of 
simplicity and poverty. This impulse is paralleled 
in modern labour and socialist psychology, where 
the workman's garb becomes a fetish of caste. 
Early Christian literature contains stories of 
Christians being tortured for refusing to put on 
garments indicative of idolatry.' All colour was 
avoided in dress, except the ' natural ' colours of the 
doth. Under the Frankish Emperors a prohibition 
was enacted against the wearing of a combination 
of wool and linen.' Such ideas gradually gave way, 
and the dress of the country, more and more of the 
' barbarian ' ty^)e, even in the South, was still worn 
by Christian Europeans without any limitations, 
country and creed being now identical. Among 
details to be noted are the following : 

In (iermany and Europe generally, till the 16th and 17th 
centuriefl, night garments were not worn ; every one slept nude.8 
Sixty yearn ago m England the use of drawers was almost un- 
known, and was regarded aa immodest and unfeminine.9 The 
tight-Htting hose were the men's characteristic garment. The 
doublet or jacket was replaced among the academic class by the 
long coat. An extraordinary variety of fashions prevailed from 
the Middle Ages onwards. Knee-breeches later replaced the 
hmg-boee, and the longer jacket the doublet. The peasant's 
overall, smock, or blouse goes back to early European times. 
Finally, the modem trousers superseded the knee-breeches. 

The evolution of material includes some abnor- 
malities of special interest. Some extreme cases 
may 1)6 selected to illustrate these. Among the 
» Hughes, DI, ».r. 'Dress'; see E. W. Lane, Modem Egyp- 
Uam, ed. 1S48, i. 36. 

' Pollux, Onamattiam, bks. iv. tU. ; Varro, de Ling. Lot. 
bk. V. 
' Wilken-Pleyte, 42. 

« O. M. Mackie, art. ' Dress,' In BDB ; I. Abrahams and 8. A. 
Cock, art. ' Dress,' in KBi. 
= Smith-Cheetham, DC A , 1875, «.». ' Dress.' 

* Acttof Perpetua and FelicUai, 18. 

' Smith-Cheetham, Ue. ; see Capitularinm, vi. 46. 
» W. Rudeck, CcsoA. d*r Bffenltiehen Sittlichkeit in DmUch- 
land, 1897, pp. 67, 889. 

• E. J. 1111, ElemmU of Bealtk, 1862, p. 103. 



Central Australians, human hair is used for various 
purposes, especially for the manufacture of girdles. 
The giving and receiving of it constitute an im- 
portant right and duty. A married man's chief 
supply is obtained from his mother-in-law.' The 
meuiajval use of the hair-shirt as a mode of penance 
depended on the coarseness of the fabric for the 
mortification of the flesh. Similar is the use of 
hempen fabric, sack-cloth, in mourning. In foot- 
gear an analogy is seen in the use of dried peas to 
make walking painful. 

The famous feather-fabric of the Nahna nations, 
who lived in a paradise of gorgeously coloured birds, 
was made by skilled artists, termed amantecas. 
This feather-cloth, with its brilliantly hned and 
scintillating patterns was used for mantles and 
dresses by the nobles and the wealthy, as well as 
for tapestry and similar drapery." The most 
skilled nation was the Toltec' 

The interweaving of precious metal with dress- 
fabric is a luxurious custom, often merging in 
superstition. Thus Hindus and Chinese consider 
it lucky to wear gold, however minute the quantity, 
in some form on the person. 

Colour in dress involves many problems of 
ajsthetie, psychological, and biological importance. 
Behind fashion in colour there seems generally to 
be a principle of unconscious adaptation to en- 
vironment. .(Esthetic principles, originally un- 
conscious, were superimposed upon this. "The 
varied symbolism of colour in dress has a psycho- 
logical foundation. Towards the tropics the 
tendency to gaudiness becomes marked ; subdued 
tones are preferred by inhabitants of the temperate 
zone. Conversely, there is adaptation to racial 
and individual skin-colour. 

The Euahlayi Australians think red to be a 
'devil's colour.'* Such cases show an unconscious 
appreciation of the powerful stimulus of red. Its 
erotic connexion no doubt explains its frequent 
use in marriage ceremonies." A natural associa- 
tion of ideas connects white with the purity of 
virgins and priests. The following are typical cases 
of doubtful origin : 

Blue was a sacred colour among the Mayas ; the priests and 
the sacred books were clothed in blue. At a certain feast, all 
instruments used in all occupations, and all children, were 
painted blue.o The Yczidis hate blue. Their strongest curse 
is ' May you die in blue garments 1 ' ' In the following example 
a tabu against mixtures may be involved. Accordmg to the 
Atharvaveda a combination of blue and red savoured of witch- 
craft." Blue and red, however, were worn in the Hebrew high 
priest's ephod, which was employed for divination (Ex 2S6 et al.). 
The special colours of Hindus and Buddhists in Northern India 
are red and saffron. The Hindu abominates indigo. The Sikh 
wears blue or white, and abominates saffron. The Musalman 
wears indigo, or, if a descendant of the I'rophet, green ; never 
red.s Tradition, social inertia, and race-feeling perpetuate 
such preferences when once established. 

Superstitious reasons for wearing a particular 
colour are probably always secondary, as, for 
instance, in the following cases from India : 

For six days before marriage the Indian Musalman bride wears 
old tattered yellow clothes, to drive away evil spirits. A wife 
meeting her husband after a long absence is drcssc<i in yclloW. 
Most Huidus of the West explain the custom of rubbing the body 
with tunneric in the same way. Among most high-class Hindus 
the bride's cloth, vadkuvastra, is yeilow.i" The Sannyasi wears 
yellow clothes.il The Ijimas of Tibet wear yellow, and yellow 
IS the colour of Buddhist priestly dress universally. 

A constant tendency may be observed for the 
colour, as well as the form, of the dress of the 
sacred world to be the precise opposite of that of 
the profane. In later stages, asceticism is also in- 

1 Spencer-Gillen«, 16.1. 

2 Bancroft, JVoMra /tacea, 1876-6, ii. 488 IT., who gives the 
authorities on the ' feather-mosaic ' art and its monuments. 

" Payne, ii. 432. Feather-cloaks and collars were made by 
the Hawaiians (Frol)enius, Childhood of Man, 1909, p. 621 

■• K. L. Parker, 136. » Cf. Gray, China, 1878. L 201. 

6 Bancroft, ii. 697, 700. 

' Millingen, Among the Koords, 1870, p. 277. 

8 Crooke, 165. 9 lb. 

"> J. M. Campbell, lA xxiv. 15« f. 

" T. Maurice, Indian Antiquiliei, 180«, v. 1008. 



48 



DRESS 



volved, and simplicity of form is combined with 
absence of colour in the ordinary priestly garb. 

The purple of the Greek world, as worn by the 
great, and particularly by royal persons, is an 
expression oi super-personality, as distinguished 
from the abnormal or the contradictory. Royalty 
amone most races wears special colours as well as 
special dress. For example, the Malay rajas have a 
monopoly of salfron, for the Malay royal colour is 
yellow. White is regarded as ' more e.xalted and 
sacred ' ; it is used to conciliate spirits. It is 
believed at the same time that the blood of kings 
is white.' As absence of colour, or the 'natural' 
colour of a fabric, implies negation or contraction 
of personality, so splendour — as in the various 
shades of crimson used by the ancient world under 
the one term of 'purple' — implies expansion of 
personality, and is suitable for festal occasions, 
iMth sacred and profane. 

The negation of splendour is often expressed by 
black or dark blue. Superstition, when using 
these, relies upon their minimum of attraction 
rather than upon any optical adaptation. Accord- 
ing to the Ras Mala, dark clothes are a protection 
against the evil eye.' The Gujarat Musalmiin 
believes that black or indigo clothes keep spirits 
away.' In Roman Catholicism, as elsewhere, blue 
or violet is a colour symbolic of death. Blue is also 
connected with the external attributes of the 
Virgin Mary, possibly as mourning her dead Son. 
Such facts show a sentimental adaptation to 
circumstances. Red and yellow, being connected 
with organic growth, are the colours of well-being, 
and of the affirmation of energy and expanded 
personality; the blue end of the spectrum re- 
presents the negation of these, in proportion to its 
deleterious influence on the organic world. Where 
mythological speculation has coloured theology, 
adaptations in priestly and other garb may occur : 
blue may represent the sky ; yellow the sun ; silver 
the moon ; red the sacrificial blood, and so on. In 
social life, colour no less than dress or uniform 
becomes a distinguishing mark, either by accident 
or by design. The gild, tlie club, the social state (as 
in the case of the blue blouse and similar status- 
garb), even the seasons of a Church, are represented 
by colours. 

The following adaptations to sacred circum- 
sta,nces have much the same meaning as the 
injunction to wear 'decent apparel' on solemn 
occasions. Among the various tabus afl'ecting tin- 
miners in Malaysia is one forbidding the wearing 
of black coats, except for the pawang, engineer-in- 
chief.* Local accidents have much to do with the 
fixing of such rules. In the above it is possible 
that a sympathetic harmony with the wliite colour 
of the sacred metal is alone intended. In the next 
case, purity alone may be intended. The Druid 
wore a white robe when cutting the mistletoe. For 
a .similar function the Cambodian priest wears 
whit«.' 

The following is an excellent example of the 
principle of adaptation. The state to which 
the person is to be assimilated is, no doubt, the 
succeeding state of cessation of the blood-flow, 
white being used by way of contrast with red. 

A ceremonial system, termed heroemboeng, is followed by some 
Dayaks in the case of ifirls at puberty. The girl is washed, and 
dressed In white. Then she fs incarcerated (or a year. During 
this ^riod she e^ts only white food ; the hutch in which she 
lives 18 of white wood ; at the end she is white herself. A feast 
is given to celebrate her release ; at this she sucks the blood of 
a young man through a bamboo.^ 

ISkeat, ISl, 18. 

« Balfour, Cyclopaiia of India', 1886, v. 29. 

» J. M. Campbell, I A xxiv. 168. * Skeat, 267. 

• Pllny, Hit xvl. 240 (. ; Aymonler, In Coehinchine francaitt 
rvl. (1^)136. ^ 

*Bijdrttam tot de Tool-, land; en Volkenkunde Jfederl.- 
Iniii, vL 2, pp, 66-71. 



Green has been used to represent sympathy with 
the growth of green things upon the earth, as in 
many agriciiltnre rites and spnngceremonies. As 
a contrast there is the Black Demetcr ; this is 
' plainly a mythical expression for the bare wintnr 
earth stripped of its summer mantle of green. • 
The use of green is also known to express the non- 
festal seasons of a religious year. Occasionally 
green figures as expressive of corruption. The 
association of green with certain forms of organic 
decay may explain this. 

3. Dress of head and feet — Foot-gear and 
head-dre.ss show an evolution as varied, cceteris 
paribus, as dress in general. The constant ideas of 
dress are seen here, even that of decency. Thus, 
where special attention is paid to clothing the foot, 
as among Chinese women, or the face, as among 
Musalman women, the resulting modesty is real, 
but not primary. Decency is a secondaiy and 
artificial idea, and there is no biological or psycho- 
logical difference between its application to the 
foot or the face and its application to the primary 
sexual characters. But in the former there is not, 
while in the latter there is, a primary impulse of 
modesty, the instinct to protect, though not 
necessarily to conceal, the sexual centres. 

Most natives in India never wear shoes. Even 
the rich dispense at least with stockings. Leather 
is avoided for reasons of ceremonial purity.' The 
impulse to wards physical cleanliness finds particular 
expression in foot-gear. It is not so obvious in the 
case of dress covering the passive areas of the body. 
The religious rule of removin" the shoes before 
entering a sacred place is identical with that 
observed in social custom, and the original motive 
is no doubt merely to avoid carrying dirt or dust 
into the house either of God or of man. 

Head-dress and coiflure involve ideas of ornament 
and distinction in a more marked degree than any 
other forms of dress. In so far as these illustrate 
the principles of dress generally, they are here in 
point. The Karens wear a head-dress in order to 
please the tso, the soul which resides in the head.' 
The Javane.se wear nothing on the head, which is 
regarded as holy.* A Zambesi rain-maker never 
cuts his hair, for fear the familiar spirits may 
desert him.° Fashions and superstitions are equally 
innumerable in the matter of coiflure. No part of 
the external surface of the body has been more 
variously manipulated than the hair. The coiffure 
marks diflerences of race, tribe, clan, sex, age, and 
social status. 

Flowers In the hair are worn by Dayak women ; the hair is In 
a knot at the back of the head. Among Dayak men it la a 
common practice to grow the back hair long and shave the 
front hair.6 The Kayans of Uorneo shave all the scalp except 
a large tuft of long hair which hangs down the back, ilose 
considers this to be a ' last remnant of the Chinese pigtail.' ' 
The latter and the Amerindian tuft are the converse of the 
priestly tonsure. The hair is either emphasized by concentra- 
tion or negated by central denudation. Similar principles have 
been applied in the varying fashions of wearing the beard. 

Where the hair is emphasized as a human, or as 
a masculine or feminine, character, its (esthetic 
appeal is parallel to that of dress, which also 
emphasizes by various harmonies of colour and 
form the sesthetic value of the body. Especially 
in woman long hair is regarded as beautiful, as her 
glory (cf. 1 Co 11"). From savagery up to modern 
civilization this attribute has lieen emphasized by 
addition, no less than by decoration. 

False hair is regularly worn by the Veddas, who 
never brush, or oil, or wash their heads.' The 
latter fashion, though nearer to the animal, may 

1 Fraier, Glf ii. 803. « Monler-WUliaros, S9«. 

» E. B. Cross, in JAOS iv. (18.M) 311 f. 

* Frazer, GB' ii. (1911)261. 

» M Unions catholiques, xxr. (1893) 286. 

6 Brooke Low, in JAl xxii. (1892) 411. 

'Hose, J^Jxxxiii. 107. 

' 0. O. and B. Z. Seliginann, 9S. 



DRESS 



49 



be an expression of personal pride in the organism, 
no less than is scrupulous cleanliness. 

The use of the fillet has two purposes — to confine 
the hair, and to prevent sweat from reaching the 
eyes. The protection of the eyes and the spine of 
the neck from the deleterious rays of the sun has 
been understood in very early stages. The general 
tendency is towards ornament in female, protection 
in male, head-gear. 

Korean head-gear is remarkable. The men's haU are like 
inverted flower-pots, witii broad, straight brima, similar to the 
Welsh tall hat. The brims measure two feet across. The hats 
are made of horsehair, and are varnished. They are stained 
black, except in half-mourning, when they are string-colour. 
The court officials wear hats so fantastic that 'it is perfectly 
impossible to describe them.' The women wear no head-gear, 
except fur-caps in winter,! Such hats as the Korean and the 
modern European tall hat are the expression of ideas of the 
dignity of the head. Just as was the crown. 

4. Ornaments and amulets. — Though dress of 
the simplest description has an ornamental value, 
there has always been a precise distinction between 
dress and ornament. There is little possibility of 
confusion between them, whether the ornament is 
directly applied to the body or is actually an addi- 
tion to the dress, meant to decorate this ratlier 
than the wearer. Ornament is often de rigueur. 
No Uinda woman ' would dare to hold up her head ' 
unless well provided with eight kinds of ornaments 
— nose-rings, ear-rings, necklaces, bracelets, arm- 
lets, finger-rings, anklets, and toe-rings.^ 

Lower races are fond of the necklace-method, 
using shells, seeds, and beads threaded on string. 
The women of Guiana load themselves witii seeds 
and beads in great ropes." Almost as prevalent is 
the use of metal cinctures, which subsequently 
acqalre the value of protective armour or amulets. 
Originally they seem to have been an extension of 
the ligature-principle. 

Amulets are practically innumerable in their 
variety. They may be worn on the body or on 
the dress, and are usually abnormal in material. 
Dress itself may acquire the virtue of an amulet. 
The Malays write charms on paper or cloth, and 
wear them next the skin.* The Musalman and 
Hebrew amulets of sacred texts are familiar ex- 
amples. The principle employed is that of assimi- 
lation of the sacred force by contact. The people 
of Surinam wear the ' strong metal,' iron, on their 
bodies, to acquire its strength.' In armour dress 
reaches the climax of its protective functions. 

5. Dress as currency. — In the absence of coinage, 
commercial transactions often take the form of 
mutual gifts, especially in the case of transactions 
which are more or less purely financial. At such 
stages any article representing work and intrinsic 
value, such as clothing, is an obvious medium for 
presentation or exchange. In savagery, gifts of 
clothing are less frequent than gifts or food ; in 
barbarism they are more frequent. 

The Trojans placed a robe on the knees of the goddess to 
induce her to save their city.o In the East Indian Islands 
clothes are a frequent olTering to the spirits.? filankets were a 
common gift among the N. American Indians.^ To show appre- 
ciation of an actor's playing, the Japanese used to throw their 
clothes on the stage. At the end they were purchased by the 
donorw, and the actor took the money.' Blankets form the chief 
property of the KwakiutI and Haidas. They are treated as 
money, and lent at interest.^o A large proportion of the taxes 
paid by the Nahuau was in the form of cloths and made-up 
clothes. The labour involved in providing the tribute was one 
mftln aspect of the Sahua, ' Rule of Life.' which gave the people 
their name. Also a considerable amount of dress wag annually 
expended in sacriflces.^l The remarkable institution of the 
Indians of flritisb Columbia, known as the potlatek^ is a dis. 

> Saonderson, in JAI xxiv. a8fl4) 3fJ4. 

•Monier-Williams, 396f. "ImThum, 199. < Skeat, 667. 
* Martin, in Bijd. tot de Taal-, Land-, en VolksTikunde J/ederL- 
Indii, XXXV. (1886) 6, pp. 2-4. 
•Hom. //. vi. S7lt., SUtitl. 

1 F. Valentijn, Oud en nieww Oott-lndtm, ed. 1862, iil. 18f. 
■ Dorsey, in Amerioin XaturtUiit, Philadelphia, xix. (1886) 

» Kennedy, In FL Ix. (1888) 93. 

» Pajne, U. 376. " it. U. M6, 478 f. 

VOU v.— 4 



tribution of property, such as blankets, undertaken by each 
member of society in turn, according to his status or oppor- 
tunity. The system is essentially financial gambling. Similar 
is the'frequent obligation of the king in early culture to redistri- 
bute the gifts which his subjects make to him.i A pottatch, 
distribution of property, accompanied initiation to the Bear 
Totem of the Carrier Indians. The candidate gave presents of 
clothes to all concerned.^ 

Ornament and currency are interchangeable, 
Ratzel points out, in early times. There is no 
safer place for property than the owner's person. 
But clothing proper is a parallel form of currency, 
either as made up into garments, or as prepared 
material. 

Among the Tlingits, seal and other skins are both worn and 
circulated as money. The fine mat-garments of the Samoans 
were their most valuable property, and were used as currency. 
The Wa-ganda use unbleached calico for the purpose, measur- 
ing the unit by the length of the forearm.3 Tlie Garos use 
cotton cloth as a medium of e.\change.^ Mat-money is used in 
the Northern New Hebrides. The mats, which are plaited by 
women, are called by the same term — mato — as women's mat- 
cloths. They are long, narrow pieces, and the value increases 
with the folds, which are usually counted in tens. In the Banks 
Islands, crimson-dyed feathers, the favourite decoration, are 
used as currency. 6 Formerly braid was so used in the Loyalty 
Islands. In Florida and Saa, disks of shells are used both as 
ornaments and as money. ^ In Africa, New Britain, Melanesia, 
among the Californians, Tlingits, and Eskimo, beads, shells, 
and the like decorations are used for exchange. The Khalkas 
discontinued the wearing of their valuable silk scarves, and 
retained them solely as a form of money. 

The famous New Britain shell ornaments, termed dewarra, 
were chiefly in the form of extended collars. The wearinfj of 
dewarra was abandoned as soon as it was found, on the arrival 
of Europeans, to have commercial value. The shells were tabu. 
A man's greatest object in life was to collect as large a hoard 
as possible. * With dewarra they buy their ornaments and their 
wives ; with dewarra they buy themselves free from all troubles 
and complications ; with dewarra they appease their bitterest 
enemy, even though they may have killed his nearest relative.' 
For daily expenses a man carries about with him a yard or a few 
fathoms of this money. ' The rest is deposited in the dewarra- 
house, a hut specially set apart for keeping the property of all 
the villagers, the thousands of fathoms belonging to the rich, 
as well as the smallest savings of the poor. From fifty to a 
hundred or even two hundred and fifty fathoms are rolled up 
in a bundle, which is wrapped in briglit-ooloured leaves. . . . 
The dewarra bank is always guarded by several sentinels.' At 
the death of a capitalist, his dewarra is distributed among the 
depositors. When a man deposits a large amount, the drum is 
beaten to summon an audience.7 Shell arm-ornaments are used 
as currency by the Southern Massim of New Quinea.d 

6. Dress symbolism. — Dress acquires ideal 
valuations from its various uses, materials, and 
associations. All languages are full of metaphors 
recording such ideas. According to the &atapatha 
Brahmana, ' the priests' fee consists of a hundred 
garments, for that — to wit, the garment — is man's 
outward appearance, whence people (on seeing) any 
well-clad man ask, "Who can this be?" ; for he is 
perfect in his outward appearance ; with outward 
appearance he thus endows him.'" This example 
well illustrates the idea that dress is botli an 
expression and an extension of personality, in its 
superficial aspect. 

The symbolism of the virgin zone, the girdle, 
the royal robe and crown, needs no illustration. 
In rare cases, an article of value used in exchange 
acquires the virtue of such objects as regalia and 
tlie Australian churinga. The wampum of the 
North American Indians 

' has, BO doubt, ^rown out of the cords on which were strung 
shetl-beads of divers colours for adorning the neck and arms, 
and which first served as ornaments, but later circulated in the 
land as real money. . . . Exchange may have taken place to 
cement a friendship or a treaty. . . . The wampinn-helt acquired 
an extraordinary measure of importance ; in it was evolved a 
certain kind of documentary script.' The speaker at meetings 
held a wamptim-belt in his hand. ' Brothers,' he might say, 
' with this belt I open your ears that you may hear ; I take care 
and sorrow from your hearts,' At the conclusion of a treaty, 
tribes exchanged wampums, which had a representation of the 

1 Van Gennep, Rites de passage, Paris, 1909, p. 43. 
« A. O. Morice, in Trans, of Canad. Inst. iv. (1892-3) 203 f. 
' H. Spencer, Prineiptet 0/ Sociology, 1876-96, ill. 387, quoting 
authorities. 
*Ib. 

» R. H. Codrington, The Melanerians, Oxford, 1891, p. 82311. 
8 Spencer, ill. 3H)i ft. 7 Frobenius, 67-«0. 

8 Seligmann, Thf MHanegian8<if Brit. Hew &ui7i«a,1910,p. 613. 
» SBB xliv. (1000) 363. 



M 



DRESS 



event woven into tiiem. Hie Inxiuoie mipported the office of 
herwUlarj- trampum-keepcr, who was more or Ices a depositary 
of the hi.storv of Uic iwople. Every year the whole collection 
waa cxliibited and explained to the whole tribe.i 

The eagle-plumes of American -warriors' bead- 
dress signilied by tbeir numbers and particular 
marks the achievements of the wearer. Similar 
marks of honour were made on their garments." 
It is, however, misleading to characterize sucb 
phenomena as dress-language. 

Out of the extensive list of metaphors from dress 
only one or two types can be included in illustra- 
tion. A proverbial saying of 16th cent, knight- 
hood contained the phrase, ' Mon hnmoix ma 
maison.'* Besides implying the Lomclessness of 
the knight-errant, this also involves the applica- 
tion of dress and armour as external shelter no 
less than as bodily covering. The most prevalent 
metaphor in all languages, that of dress as a 
covermg, often loses its force as a species of 
covering, and comes to be a synonym for the 
genus, owing to its constant use. In proverbs, 
the wisdom of many and the wit of one employs 
the simplest and the most complex ideas of dress. 

lu Hasailaiid the Smihili proverb is used, *to cut out the 
tunic before the child is oom,' equivalent to the English 
'counting your chicltens before they are hatched.'* A popular 
Chinese oook ol moiul iustruclion says: 'Brothers are like 
bauds and feet. A wife is like one's clothes. When clothes 
are worn out, we can substitute those that are ncw.'^ 

The metaphorical wealth of Indian literature 
suggests two points. In the first place, dress is 
more than covering ; it imparts an anthropomor- 
phic value to the object. According to the Vedic 
texts on ' Soma,' the mixture of soTna with milk, 
sour milk, and barley is a 'garment.'' Water, 
say the Upani^ads, is 'the dress of breath.'' In 
the second place, there is no doubt that a good 
deal of mythological creation is due to metaplior, 
not as a disease of language, but as a deliberate 
use of association of ideius for the purpose of 
artistic and religious invention. Meta])hors, like 
those of dress, serve, first, to personalize an object, 
and then to humanize it. There need be no con- 
fusion between the two uses ; they are simply two 
methods of viewing one thing. Nor need there be 
any fetishism behind such cases. 

On the other hand, the OT and NT use is purely 
abstract and literary. But there is no ground for 
supposing that this is a secondary stage, and that 
sucli meta.i)liors were origitially material identifica- 
tions. The lowest savages, for instance, use meta- 
phors merely as such. The pastures ' clothed with 
nocks'; the lieavens 'clothed with blackness'; 
a woman ' clothed with the sun ' ; clothed ' with 
cursing,' ' with vengeance,' ' with drowsiness,' 
' with strength and honour ' ; and flowers clothing 
'the grass of the field '*— these are examples of 
Biblical mctajihor. Dress - metaphors may be 
morally applied. Clothed ' with salvation,' ' with 
righteousness,' or 'with humility'" is a pure 
metaplior. In Zoroastrian texts it is said that 
the garments of the soul in the life to come are 
made from acts of almsgiving." A beautiful 
metaphor like this is not degraded if it becomes 
concrete ; it is merely translated into materiality. 

The great bifurcation of dress is sexual. Besides 
the obvious symbolism and metaphor which this 
involves (as in phrases like ' petticoat government ' 
and 'wearing the trousers'), there may be men- 
tioned an attempt on the part of asceticisim to 
1 Frobeniua, 05-60. a 76. 70. 

» De la Noue, Ditamri polUiqva tt militaires, Geneva, 1687, 
p. 216. 

• Hollis, 24$. 

» Indo-Chlnae Gttaner, Malacca, 1818, 1. 164. 

• A. A. Maodonell, Vtdic Mythol., Strassburg, 1897, p. IOC f. 
7 SBJi i. 74. 

1*8 65", Is 60>, Eev 121, p, 10918^ u 69", Pr iS" 3126 
Lk 12as. 

• 1 P 6», P» 1S2" 1«. 

M Shdyatt U-ShdgaH, xll. i 4, in SBS v. 841. 



express the non-sexual idea. The attempt is 
made both in ideal pictures and in actual jirie^tly 
garb. The garmcut selected is the long tunic, wliicli 
survived here for other reasons, and the colour i» 
white. Thus all indication of primary sexual 
characters is veiled ; the dress not only covers but 
replaces the body. White is at once pure, free 
from 'mixture,' as a mixture of all colours, and 
neutral, between splendour and shame. 

It has been suggested* that the Egyptian crux 
ansala, the symwiT of life, is a picture of the loin- 
cloth. In the Hervey Islands a frequent name for a 
^od is tatua manava, ' loin-belt.' ' A similar notion 
IS that of the girdle, symbolic of eternity, as the 
circle is of infinity. 

The relation of"^ soul and body is often expres^ 
in terms of dress. Tlie expression may be merely 
metaphorical ; it may also be real. The body is 
not only a house or a tomb, as in some car^y 
Christian literature; more aptly is it an exactly 
fitting duplicate, covering the soul. Thus, tli,e 
body, according to Malay psychologj', is the 
sarong of the soul. Conversely, the Gnostics sjioke 
of the soul as a 'garment.' In the one case the 
inner soul, in the other the outer or filmy soul, 
seems to be intended.^ la a fimious passage Ht- 
Paul combines the metaphors of house and dress 
in reference to the super- terrestrial body : with 
this man desires to be ' clothed upou,' ' not for 
that we would be unclothed, but clothed u^Kin, 
that mortality might be swallowed up of life.' At 
the same time the body terrestrial is a ' bouse,' 
a 'tabernacle.'* The Dene Indian when sick 
regains his soul by the following metliod. His 
moccasins are stufl'ed with down and himg up. If 
the down is warm next morning the soul has 
entered the shoes, and it may bo reunited with 
the Ixidy if the patient puts them on.° Here the 
presence of personal warmth, associated with 
actual wearing, represents the presence of the 
soul in the dress. 

The metaphorical and symbolical applications of 
the idea of dress thus show an oscillation between 
very distant extremes, which may be summarized 
as on the one hand a sheltering house, and on tbe 
other hand an almost organic skin. 

7. The social psychology of dress. — (1) The 
dress of vtystcry. — -The results of the free play of 
the social mind on the subject of dress in magical, 
religious, and moral opinion and ritual may be 
introduced by some such observation as that 
early folklore regards weaving as a mystical art.' 
In other words, the operation has significance, 
attracts attention, and may inspire wonder. But 
the ultimate reason is merely that it is outside 
the normal plane of ordinary human or, more 
exactly, animal activity. It is not because there 
is any reference either to dress or to magic. 

The invention of fairy tales illustrates, by ex- 
travagant emphasis, various ideas connected with 
dress, but overlaid >vitli that secondary form of 
magical belief which is merely ajsthetic, literary, 
or generally fanciful. Stories of magical dresses' 
are numerous. The motif illustrates either the 
connexion of dress with iiersonality or the use of 
dress as a protection, disguise, or honour. There 
is, for instance, the shirt of snowy whiteness 
which turns black when the owner dies.' The 
emphasis on symimthetic connexion is constant. 
The shirt which never needs mending while the 

' By Sayce (quoted in March, Ue.). 

> H. O. March, in J A I xxli. (1892) 314 ; OiU, Uylht and Songn 
from the South Pacific, 1876, p. 86. 

s Crawley, The Idea 0/ the Soul, 1908, pp. 126, 216, quoting 
authorities. 

« 2 Co &1-*. 

' A. Q. Morice, "The Western Viait,' In ProcCauad. /tut 
vii. (Toronto, 1888-9) 158 f. 

6 Crooke, in Fl, ix. (1898) 124. ' li. 129: 

8 M. K. Cox, Cinderella, 1882,jM»rim. 



DBKSS 



^1 



wearer remains faithful ' is a contrast to the shirt 
of Nessus. 

In German folklore a shirt spun and stitched 
by a maiden who has kept silence for seven years 
can undo spells and render the wearer spell-proof.' 
St. Theresa was presented by the Virgin with an 
invisible cope which guarded her from sin.' The 
clothes and caps which make invisible were familiar 
subjects of mediajval lore. 

Mal.iv folklore tcUs of the cloth, santistah kallah, 'which 
weaves iUxU, and adds one thread yearly of flue pearls, and 
when that cloth shall be finished the world will be no more.' ■" 
An okl-time raja 'wore the trousers called beraduuanggi, 
miraculously made without letting in pieces'; also a waist- 
band of flowered clotli, which thrice a day changed colour—' in 
the morning transparent as dew, at mid-day of the colour of 
lemlmyunrj [purple], and in the evening of the hue of oil.' His 
sarong was 'a robe of muslin of the finest kind ; ... it had 
been woven in a jar in the middle of the ocean by people with 
gills, relieved by others with beaks ; no sooner was it finished 
than the maker was put to death, so that no one might be able 
to make one like it. . . . If it were put in the sun it got 
damper, if it were soaked in water it became drier.'* 

The idea that dress is a secondary skin, an outer 
bodily surface, has a connexion with many stories 
of iuetamorpho.sis. 

A Javanese magician transforms himself into a tiger by 
means of a miraculous sarong, the Malay garment, half robe 
and half shirt. This is believed to have such mariellous 
elasticity that at first it will only cover his great toes, but it 
stretches till it covers the whole body. It resembles in texture 
and colour the hide of the Bengal tiger. When it is on, a few 
muttered charms complete the transformation of the magician 
into a tiger. <i 

(2) Dress and personality. — One of the simplest 
cases of association is the idea that a person may 
be represented by his dress. Dress is here analo- 
gous to the name, the effigy, and the image. 

In China, when a man dies in a foreign land, he is buried 
in the form of his clothes. The soul is summoned, and then 
' the burial of the evoked soul ' takes place. In the case, for 
instance, of an empress in ancient times, her soul was to be 
evoked ' with the aid of her sacrificial robe ; then this robe must 
be placed on a soul-carriage . . . then the dress nmst be taken 
to the sacrificial hall ... be covered with s corpscpall, and 
finally be buried.' 7 If the son of a dead Chinese cannot attend 
the funeral, he is represented by a suit of sackcloth garments 
carried on a tray in the procession.8 At a Celebes festival, a 
woman's and a man's firess represent deceased ancestors.^ 
Among the Eskimo the first child born after a death ' repre- 
sents ' the dead man. These namesakes eat and drink the 
provisions and wear the clothes offered to the dead at feasts, 
on their behaU. At the end the shades are sent back wearing 
the spiritual essence of the clothes, while the gross substance 
is kept by the lumesakes.'" When the oflice of high priest in 
Tonga was vacant, the priestly dress was placed on a chair, 
and yams were offered to it. It was regarded as an equivalent 
for the person." If a Zulu lightning-doctor is unable to attend 
a case, tie sends his blanket to be placed in front o( the storm 
as an equivalent for himself.w 

Battling in clothes" is a form of ceremonial 
purilication which shows the connexion of dress and 
person. If dre.ss is a part of personality, it follows 
that it must share in the duties imposed on the 
natural body. Similarly, if the soul of a dead 
person is a replica of his ordinary personality in 
fife, the soul after the death of the body is re- 
garded as wearing clothes. This was, for instance, 
the case with the Egyptian ka. 

The anointing of garments is a practice found 
in faiihion, ritual, and ordinary life (see art. 
Anointing). As a detail of full dress, the wed- 
ding garments of the Masai bride are oiled before 
being put on.'* Tlie robes of the Hebrew high 
priest, no leas than his head and i)erson, were 
anointed with the sacred oil." The hygienic pur- 
pose of oiling the skin is also fulfilled by oiling 
the garments worn. 

In many cases the dress ia not merely a repre- 

I Crooke, FL ix. 130. 

5 Grimm, Ttut. ilythol., 18S0-^ iii. 1098 f. 

» Quart. Rev., ISM, p. 413. * Skcat, 29. 

»y4. 29f. 6/4.101. 

■7 De Groot, Rel. Syst. of China, 18929., iii. 847, 853. 

■ lb. i. ISS. 

• B. F. Matthes, Binnmlanden van Celebet, 1856, p. 5. 
M a W. Nelson, in IH ItltK W (1S1»), pL i. i>p. 365-379, 424 f. 
H S. 8. Farmer, Tmga, IbS.O, j.. 134. 

J- H. Callaway, Religitms SysUm of the Ainazulu, 1868, p. 273. 
u llaau, xi. 175. » Uollia, iiOS. 1° £x 287. 21. 



sentative symbol of the person, but a usable sub- 
stitute for a more or less sacred and therefore 
unusable reality. A Masai man swears to the 
truth of a statement ' by my sister's garment,' a 
woman ' by my father's garment.' ' Tne converse 
of this idea may be seen when regalia or royal 
robes are more sacred than the person of the 
monarch. These associations, in connexion with 
the innate love of finery, are concerned in certain 
observances during sickness and at death. 

In serious illness, a Mongol's best clothes and ornaments are 
spread round him in order to tempt the absent soul to retum.2 
A similar practice is recorded of the Greenlanders and the 
Todas.3 In China 'a coat belonging to the sick man, and very 
recently worn, is suspended on a bamboo.' Incantations are 
performed to induce the errant soul to enter the coat. When 
the pole turns round in the hands of the holder, the soul has 
arrived, and the coat is placed on the sick man's body.* 
For the Chinese ceremony of ' calling back the dead,' the dead 
man's favourite costume is employed. The idea is to entice the 
soul into it, for it should be ' inclined to slip into such of its gar- 
ments as it had been proud to wear during life.' The dress is 
held out by a mourner, crying ' Ho 1 come back.' Then, the 
soul being supposed to have entered, it ia placed on the body 
of the dead man.» The Mongols try to persuade the soul of a 
sick man to return by putting out his best clothes, washed and 
perfumed.8 The Maoris enticed the sold of a dead chief by the 
bait of a piece of its body or its clothes, in order to instal it in 
the Wahi Tapu.'' Souls are commonly charmed into a cloth 
or caught in the same receptacle."* 

The custom of dressing the dead in his best 
clothes may often be based on similar associations 
(see below). 

The principle of impersonation is easUy ap- 
plied to dress. Particular cases are assimilation 
to totemic or other animals, and may be regarded 
as a fusion of personalities, or rather the assump- 
tion of a secondary personality. 

The natives of the Upper Congo blacken their faces with oU 
and charcoal in resemblance of a species of monkey ; they ex- 
plain that by so doing they derive ' monkey cunning.' y Bechu- 
ana warriors wear the hair of a hornless ox in their hair and 
the skin of a frog on their cloak, that they may be as liard to 
hold as are these animals. 10 The Bororo of Brazil regard tliem- 
selves as being identical with red-plumaged birds. They de- 
corate themselves with their feathers.il All African tribes, says 
Schweinfurth (but the statement needs considerable qualifica- 
tion), imitate in their attire some animal, especially those for 
which they have ' reverence.' ' In this way it frequently happens 
that their superstition indirectly influences the habits of their 
daily life, and that their animal-worship finds expression in 
their dress.' 1* Among the Vaydas of Cutch the bridegroom is 
dressed as a monkey when he goes to the house of the bride. 13 
The purposes of imi)er3onation are naturally 
manifold, and retjuire no general illustration. 
Wlien a sick Esknuo child is made to wear a 
dog's harness, and is consecrated as a dog to the 
goddess Sedna," the idea is, no doubt, change of 
condition as resulting from chaijge of personality. 
On a similar principle, the Galelareese, conclud- 
ing that a barren tree is a male, turn it into a 
female by placing a woman's petticoat upon it." 

Assimilation of dress to person has innumerable 
gradations, passing ultimately into identity or 
duplication. The principle is complicated by the 
belief that inanimate objects have souls. There 
is an Irish belief that the clothes of a dead man 
wear out more quickly than those of a living man.'" 
The Hindus hold that the dress and ornaments of 
the gods and deified mortals do not decay." Gar- 
ments, like other inanimate articles, have souls, 
as in Fijian and Tongan belief. 

(3) Magical associations. — All the ideas and 

I Hollis, 345. •' Bastian, Die .Seele, 1860, p. 36. 
3 Crantz, Greenland, 1820, i. 237 ; Marsliall, A J'hreiuMogist 

amojigut the Todas, 1873, p. 171. 
■> Uoolittle, Social Lije oj the Chinese, New Yorlt, 1886, i. 160 1. 
» De Qroot, i. 246 ff. Bastian, 30. 

7 E. Taylor, Te ika a Maui^, 1870, p. 101. 

8 Crawley, Idea 0/ the Soul, 126, 136 f. 
» H. Ward, in JAI xxiv. 293. 

i» E. Casalis, The Basutos, Eng. tr., 1861, p. 278 

II K. von den Steinen, 352, bVi. 
f-" Heart 0/ Africa'^, 1874, 1 406. 
« Crooke, Pit', ii. 164. 

14 Frazer, Totemivm and Extxjamy, iv. (1910) 208, quoting Boas. 
'5 M. J. van Baarda, in Bijdragen tut de Taal; Land-, en Vol. 
kenkmidi' van SederL-Indie, xiv. (18*J5) 489. 
ioy/lFX.viii.(1895)110. " Monier-WUliams, 235. 



a 



DBBSS 



practices of Byinpathotic magic are abundantly 
illustrated by dress. A few typical cases may be 
cited. 

AniODK the Tor»d]a» of Celebes, when the men »re on cam- 
paign, those remaining behind may not put off their garment* 
or head-dfpss, lest the warrior's armour may fall off.' The 
principle ol lilie producing like is frequently applied. A Malay 
woman explained that her reason for stripping the upper part 
of her hodv when reaping rice was in order to make the nee- 
husks thinner.' Durmit the tealival of the Mexican ' long- 
haired mother,' the inaize-goddess, women danced with their 
long hair uiiliound, that the tassel of the maizo might grow m 
equal protuBioii.s In a Kashmir story, a weaver offers the king 
soiue doth tor a shroud. The king held that the man wished 
his death.* A rain-maker in Mabuiag paints himself white and 
black, with the explanation ' All along same as clouds, black 
behind, white he go first.' A woman's petticoat also is put on 
to signify clouds." In ancient India, the Brihinan rain-maker 
wore black garments and ate black food. He had to touch 
water thrioe a day." Generally it is a rule that to make ram 
the operator must himself bo wet, to make dry weather he 
must tie dry. ' Who drives fat oxen should himself be tat. 

Magical injury is efl'ected upon a person by 
means of his dress, as having been in contact with 
or as representing him. The practice of injuring 
or slaying a man by burning or otherwise destroy- 
ing fragments of his clothes or food, and the like, 
is world-wide.' 

A rejected lover in Burma gets an image of the lady, oontiun- 
iog a piece of her clothes or of something she has worn. This 
b then hanged or drowned.8 A Wotjobaluk wizard would roast 
a man's opossum-skin rug before a fire, in order to make him 
111 or die. The only cure was to soak the rug in water, when 
the sick felt cooler and reoovered.9 The Tannese wizard prac- 
tised a similar method with a cloth which contained the 8weat.i" 
Prussian folklore has it that if you cannot catch a thief you 
may get hold of a garment he has dropped in his llight. If 
this is beaten soundly, the thief falls sick.ii The last case sug- 
gests that the dress is regarded as a part of personality, or 
an exterior and superficial layer of personality. The practices 
illustrated above are perhaps better explained on this pruiciple 
than on the hypothesis tliat things once in contact retain a 
magical continuity. 

The converse method of enforced assimilation pro- 
duces intimacy and identity by means of dress. 
To obtain a favour or to conciliate feeling, a Zulu 
gets some article or fragment from the person he 
has in mind, and wears it next his skin.'^ 

More numerous are cases of actual transmission 
of properties by means of dress. A South Slav- 
onian woman who desires a cliild puts a chemise 
on a fruitful tree. Next morning sne places it on 
her own person." According to Swiss folklore, the 
dress of a dead child will kill any child who wears 
it." Such examples need not be multiplied, but 
their interpretation cannot be found merely in the 
idea of contagion of jAysical or magical properties. 
For early thoughkit is an obvious inference that a 
man's nature 

' inheres not only in all parts ot his body, but in his dress. . . . 
Probably the interpretation ot odour has led to this belief. If 
the breath. is the spirit or other-sclt, is not this invisible emana- 
tion which permeates a man's clothing and by which he may 
be tisoed, also a part ot his other self ? ' " 
But inference from odour does not, any more than 
the idea of contagion, satisfy all the conditions. 
There is also, as already suggested, to be taken 
into account the general ideas derived from the 
speciiic idea of dress. A garment is an expression 
of personality, and, as such, its significance is en- 
forced by its application to other personalities, 
while this application receives a concrete meaning 
' Frazer, Early Uintory 0/ the Kingship, 1905, p. 61. 
a Skeat, 248. » Payne, i. 421. 

4 Knowles, Folktales of Kathmir, 1888, p. 266. 
» A. 0. Haddon, in JAI xix. (1800) 401. 
• H. Oldenbcrjt, Rel. del Veda, Ikrlin, 1894, p. 420 f. 
t Biedel, l>e s.'itik- en kroesharige rassen, Hague, 1886, pp. 61, 
79,461; Aymonier, Cambodge, Paris, 1900-4, p. 106; Dawson, 
^tM(ra2<an^Iiffrigtnes, Mellx>urne, 1881, p. f>4. 
> 0. 3. F. 8. Forbes, BrUith Burma, 1878, p. 232. 
» A- W. Howitt, In JAI xvi. (1886)281. 
lO B. T. SomervUle, In JAI xxiii. (1893) 19. 
» Tattau-Xenuue, Vaikttagen Oltprewaeru, Berlin, 18S7, p. 

nsf. 

» Callaway, 142. 

U F. 8. Krauss, VoUUglaube und niigioKT BraxuK der Sad- 
riaven, 1890, p. 81). 
>• PUm, Dan Kind, Leipzig, 1876, 1. 240. 
M II. Spencer, rrineiples 0/ Socioloyj/, i. aaC. 



and the general idea is concretely realized from 
the mere fact that the object expressive of per- 
sonality possesses and may retain the material 
impress of the i)erson. These ideas enter into 
many of the superstitious uses of dress. One or 
two types may be cited : 

The Kayans believe that to touch a woman's clothes would 
enervate them and make them unsuccessful in hunting and 
war.l The Siamese consider it unlucky to pass under women s 
clothes hung out to dry." 

The Queensland natives would toke off the skin of a slain 
enemy and cover a sick man with it, in the hope ot cunng 
him » In this and similar cases, as in the practice of blood- 
drinking, merely the application ot organic activity and strength 
is intended. 

It is doubtful if cases like the following imply 
as much as they seem to do. The desire to have 
an article clean and new is irreducible, but upon it 
may be developed habits and beliefs of a luvsticaJ 
nature. The people of Nias, after buying clothes, 
scrub them carefully in order to rid them of all 
contagion of the original owners.'' 

The irradiation of ideas of contact has remarkable 
power and extension, as is slio^vn by beliefs con- 
cerning the dress of members of the sacred world. 
Such garments are impregnated mth the mana of 
the wearer, as was Elijah's mantle. But, as pomted 
out before, metaphors like ' impregnated ' cannot 
always be elevated into reasons. The idea that 
'sanctity,' for instance, may inhere in garments 
as an effluvium or a force is possibly a late 
explanation, and not the original reason for the 
practices and beliefs concerned. 

The Mikado's clothes, by reason of their 'sanctity,' caused 
pain and swellings if worn by other persons. Similarly, to 
avoid injuring others, his eating and drinking vessels were 
destroyed, immediately after u8e.» 

The garments of a Maori cliief would kill any man who wore 
them. In other words, the chief's tapu, inherent in them, had 
the power ot destroying." In Fiji there was a special dmease, 
tana lama, caused by wearing the clothes of a chief.' 

The principles of ceremonial purity and defile- 
ment have produced some remarkable forms of 
dress and rules of toilette. v.,jv._iv 

Among the Mekeo of New Guinea, a woman after chUdbirth 
must wear gloves made of coconut fibre when i)ounng 
water.8 The Tmni or Dini girl during her first period wears 
a skin bonnet with fringes reaching to the breast, because the 
sight ol her is dangerous to society.' 

(4) Personality and state.— Fox the psychology 
of dress a class of facts relating to murderers and 
menstruous women, and illustrated by the Eskimo 
theory of tabu, have an important significance. 

It is a frequent rule that persons who have shed 
blood, or emit blood, shall indicate their state in 
a peculiar way. Thus, the homicide among the 
Northern Indians of America had to paint his 
mouth red before eating." The origuial intention 
was probably not protective, but merely an uncon- 
scious impulse to adapt the person to the particular 
state. The idea of protection may be superposed 
upon this. The Omaha murderer was not allowed 
to let his robe fly open ; it was to be pulled close 
about his body, and kept tied at the neck, even in 
hot weather." Such cases, if their meaning is pro- 
tective, are perhaps better explained as reactions 
to a vague and indeterminate impulse to conceal- 
ment rather tlian as direct attempts to evade the 
ghost of the murderer's victim. 

The smearing of the blood-shedder with blood as 
a means of adaptation to the state of bloodshed is 
exactly parallel with any investiture with a sacred 

1 A. W. Nieuwenhuis, Quer durch Borneo, 1904, i. 350. 

2 Hastian, Die Vulker des iisUidien Asim, 1866-(1, hi. 280. 
» Fison-Howllt, Kamilaroi and Kumai, 1880j). 228. 

4 Nieuwenhuis-Roaenbcrg, in Verh. Batav. Genoot3ch. Jtxx. 
(BaUvia, 1863) 26. . „ ,- , ... 

5 Krazer, ci', pt. ii. p. 131. « R. Taylor, 164. 
'' Fison, quoted by Frazer, GB>, pt. 11. p. 131. 

8 Guis, Ifimon* cotAoJt«u«, XXX. (1898) 119. 

» A. G. Morice, in Annual J.rcha!ological Report, Toronto, 

10 s''ilearne, Journey to the Northern Ocean, 1796, p. 204. 
" Dorsey, in S iJBi'lF (1884X P- 869. 



DRESS 



63 



dress, as a means of adaptation to a sacred state. 
The ' dressing' is a frame to the picture. 

The Eskimo theory of taba brings this out. Both personality 
in general, and particular states of a given personality, form 
round themselves an expression of their essence. The Eskimo 
hold that a man who has transgressed tabu appears to animals 
to be of a dark colour or surrounded by a vapour ; for example, 
the hands of a menstruous woman appear to be red. This colour 
becomes attached not only to the soul of the agent, but to the 
souls of the animals with which he has to do ; in fact, of every- 
thing with which he may establish contact. If a child is sick, 
the angekok removes a black attachment from its soul, caused 
perhaps by the child having taken oil-drippings from the lamp. 
A dead man's clothes may not be worn, for a hunter wearing 
them would api)ear dark and the seals would avoid him.i 

Behind all this is the instinct against incongniity, 
mal-adaptation. A hunter must not wear the 
dress of a dead man or of a mourner; equally a 
moamer must not wear the dress of a hunter. 
The passage from one state to the other, or the 
transgression of tabu, is not the primary notion. 
The spiritual garb, resulting from a particular 
state, is not originally the result of any trans- 
gression ; it is an automatic effect of the state, a 
psychological echo of the adaptation, assimilation, 
or identification of the individual with his parti- 
cular condition. 

Again, it is believed by the Greenlanders that, if a whale- 
fisher wears a dirty dress, or one contaminated by contact with 
a dead man, the whales will desert the fishing-grounds.^ 

In such cases it is probable that there is 
originally no notion of contamination or contagion 
at all ; there is merely the incongruity between 
the full-dress, and complimentary circumstances 
of the hunt, — the quarry being approached respect- 
fully and regardf ully, — and the undress slovenliness 
of dirty clothes or the ill-omened and tactless 
reference to death contained in any connexion 
with a corpse. 

The garment of a particular state must be dis- 
carded when that state is past. By this means 
and by bodily ' cleansing ' transition to the new 
state or to the normal is ellected. 

The Hebrew high priest after offering the sin-offering had to 
wash himself and put off the garments he had worn. 3 Similarly 
the Greek worshipper after an expiation might not enter a city 
or his house until he had washed biniseU and his clothes.'! 

Such rules are of world-wide extension. The 
principle of contamination in its secondary and 
ordinary meaning cannot cover all the facts. The 
original meaning of 'mixture,' and conversely the 
original meaning of 'purity,' as an unmixed state, 
supply an adequate explanation, in the principle 
of a psychical (and, as expressed in action, a 
material) adaptation to state. In customs such as 
the following the original motive is obscnre, but 
the secondary idea of removal of a dangerous 
effluvium is suggested. 

Among the Berbers of South Morocco, 'persons who have 
been wrongly accusefl of a crime sometimes entirely undress 
themselves in the sainthouse, when going to swear. They 
believe that, if they do so, the saint will punish the accuser ; 
and I conclude,' observes Westermarck, who reports the custom, 
* that at the bottom of this belief there is a vague idea that the 
absence of all clothes will prevent the oath from clinging to 
themselves.'!* 

Secondary also is the principle that sacred ap- 
purtenances may only be used once ; when emptied 
of their force, tliey must be destroyed.' Nor can 
we regard as primary the principle that change or 
removal of dress is a rite of separation from the 
previous state. The important thing is not the 
moment of transition (and there is no evidence that 
any danger is attached to this), but the state 
itself. Paissage from one state to another is 
marked frequently by change of appitrel, but it is 
unnecessary to labour the point of transition. It 
is clear that the principle of a/laptation to state or 
circumstance has, as a corollary, the principle of 
change, which may be more or less emphasized. 
Thus, the Lapps strip themselves of the garments 

1 r. Boas, in BuU. Anur. Mui. Nat. BUt. xt. (1901) i. 119- 
128. 
» Crantz, 1. 12a » Lt 18S»-. « Frazer, Om li. 308. 

> Ml L 69. 8 Van Oennep, RiU» de pottage, 85. 



in which they have killed a bear,' just as after 
any sacred ceremony the participants put off their 
ceremonial appurtenances. The particular state 
is over and done with ; therefore its exterior 
adaptation must likewise be removed. Ideas of 
removing the sacred and dangerous influence are 
probably secondary. 

These considerations, in connexion with the 
principle that solemnity in dress must accompany 
solemnity of circumstance and function, may ex- 
plain the following types of these customs. 

For the harvest festival the two officiating elders of the Nagas 
wash carefully and put on new clothes.2 The Greeks put on 
clean clothes before worship.^ Before officiating the Shinto 
priests of Japan put on clean garments.* It is a precept of 
Islam that the clothes and person of a worshipper shall be 
clean.5 A iluhammadan ' would remove any defiled garment 
before he commences his prayer, or otherwise abstam from 
praying altogether.' 6 In ancient Christian baptism the novices 
put off their garments, and clothed themselves in new white 
robes.'' At the consecration of a Catholic virgin the novice 
puts off her ordinary clothes, and puts on the habit and the 
veil ; also the ring on the finger — the ceremony being actually 
a marriage to Christ.8 The putting away of the skin dress of 
the noviciate and the assumption of new clothes were part of 
the ' ordination ' of the ancient Brahman. 9 

Whether the new state is the extraordinary 
state of sacredness or the ordinary state of common 
life, adaptation to it equally involves change of 
assimilative costume, preceded by removal of that 
previously worn. 

In order to assume the crest of the Lulem, the Bear, the 
Carrier Indian took off all his clothes, and spent some days and 
nights in the woods. On his return he joined in the Bear 
Dance, in which he was dressed as a bear. During initiation to 
secret societies in the Congo States the candidate is naked. '*> 
In British Central Africa, boys during initiation wear bark- 
cloth. At the conclusion new clothes are put on. Entrance to 
the various ' gilds ' is marked by a change of costume. Girla 
after initiation put on new calico.'l When their initiation cere- 
monies were over, Kaffir boys were chased to the river, where 
they washed off the white clay with which their bodies had 
been painted. Everything about them was burned. They 
were smeared with the ordinary unguent and were given new 
karos8es.J2 

Frazer has suggested that the practices of de- 
pilation, and painting the body white or red, at 
puberty, are in view of the belief in re-birth.'^ The 
Kikuyu, for instance, hold that a boy is bom 
again at circumcision, and he pretends so to be." 
But this idea is ex post facto. 

When her period is over, a woman puts on new 
clothes. This is the ordinance of the Shdyast la- 
Shayast, of the Mosaic and Hindu law, and of the 
vast majority of savage and barbarian customary 
social codes. 

Thus, the Kharwar woman after her period bathes and washes 
her clothes.15 The Thompson Indian girl has the special dress 
she wore during her seclusion at pubed^y bumt.on her re-entry 
into society. ^8 

At the end of the hiri, the annual trading expedition, which 

Sartakcs of the nature of a solemn pilgrimage, the Koita of 
ew Guinea bathes, anoints himself, and puU on a new tihi, 
loin-cloth. Uis wife, who has stayed at home, also bathes and 
puts on new gannents.17 

A sort of mechanical link between purification 
by lustration and the assumption of new clothes 
is made by anointing. After childbirth the Kaflir 
mother is anointed ceremonially with the ordinary 
fat and red clay.'* This is equivalent to the re- 
sumption of decent apparel. 

New clothes express a new state or condition. 

1 Frazer, QB3, pt. ii. p. 221. a T. C. Hodson, 172. 

8 Westermarck, MI ii. 362, citing the authorities. 

■1 W. E. Griffis, lieligi'mn of Japan, 1895, p. 86. 

E. Sell, Faith o/ Itlam-i, 189«, p. 257. 

» Westermarck, MI ii. 410. ' Van Gennep, 136. 

8 Migne, Encycl. thiol., 1844-66, xvW. ; Boissonnet, Diet, det 
cdr^mmiies et det ritet ^ncrt?5, 1846, ill. coll. 539 ff., quoted by 
Van Oennep, 140ff. 

» Oldenberg, Rel. des Veda, 360. 

i» Frobenius, Die Masken u. GeheimMnde Afrikas, Balle, 
1S98, p. 69 f. 

11 H. Stannus, in JAI%\. (1910) 296, 297. 

1' Maclean, Compendium of Kafir Laws and Cuttomt, 1868, 
p. 99. 

13 Totemigm and Exogamy, iv. 230. 

14 lb. 228, quoting Hollis. "s Crooke, in NINQ i. 67, 
16 Teit, in U-uU. Am. ilus. Hat. Bitt. ii. iv. (1900) 317. 

n Seligmann, 110. » Maclean, 94. 



» 



DRESS 



There is an impulse to rhytlimical eliange in 
bvuuan life, coiiicidiug with later idesiH of morality. 
The Incas, at a purilioatory festival which was to 
banish all evil, ghouk their clothes, crying ' Let the 
evils be gone ! ' ' In such cases the iJea of newness, 
owing to the contrast between the old state and 
the new and to the impulsive belief in change as 
protluciiig good fortune, tends to predominate over 
the principle of adaptation to the new state. In 
other words, the important thing is not the succeed- 
ing slate but the riddance of the old. 

At Uie Creek festival ol new (ruita, the biitk, new clothes and 
new utensils were provided by each person ; the old clothes 
were burned.*-* At the Tongan festival of first-fruits all were 
clad in new clothes. =* The Hindus wear new clothes at the 
festival of the new year, satfivatfarddi.* The Chinese ceremony 
ol 'raising the head' is the putting on ot special clothes for 
marriage. A suit of white hbdy-clothes of linen is made for 
botji bride and ^room. Brand-new they are, and are worn 
during the marriage-ceremonies, for on this occasion they 
themselves * become brand-new people.' The suits are then put 
away, only to be worn again in the tomb.^ In Korea, on the 
14th day of the first month, any one entering upon ' a critical 
year of his life ' dresses an effigy of straw in his own clothes and 
cast^ it away. Fate is behevcd to look upon the individual in 
his new clothes as another man.8 

Here the secondary principle of disguise intrudes. 
Ideas of disguise by change of dress have been 
developed in many cases. 

Thus, m the seventh month of pregnancy, a Ceramese woman 
is rubbe<l with dough of seven colours. A new ornamental 
sarong is placed on her. This the husband slices in two with 
a sword and immediately runs away. She is dressed seven 
times in seven colours.'' The Bulgarian, to cure scrofula, will 
creep naked through an arch of boughs, and then hang his 
clothes on a tree, donning other garments.^ In Uganda a sick 
man is made to jump over a stick, and let his bark -cloth fall oS. 
The priest takes the cloth and runs in the opposite direction.^ 
Often it is enough to follow the principle of the 
fantastic as a strong contrast to the previous state 
which has suffered misfortune. 

Thus, in South Guinea a sick woman is dressed in a fantastic 
garb, and her body is painted with streaks of red and white. 
She then stands in front of her hut brandishing a sword.lt* The 
last detail is a later stratum. The Mosquito Indians believe 
that the devil (Witiasha) tries to seize the corpse. It is hurried 
to the grave by four men ' who have disguised themselves with 
paint.'^l A Siberian shaman will paint his face red when about 
to accompany a soul to the spirit-land, expressly to disguise 
himself from devils.^s The Tongans, when at war, changed their 
costume before every battle by way of disguising themselves. is 
Similarly, the king of Israel disguised himself at Bamoth- 
OUead.H 

Disguise may take the fomi of impersonation, and 
the agent may be a person or a thing. 

The people of Minahassa delude the evil spirit by placing on 
the Blck man's bed a dummy dressed in his clothes. 15 Abyssinian 
kin^ had a sort of small bodyguard who dressed exactly like 
their royal master. ' So that the enemy may not distinguish 
him * was the reason assigned. iti 

The protective value of dress is often expressed 
merely as that of a covering. 

Thus, when the angel appeared to Muhammad, he hastened 
to bis house, crying, ' Cover me with cloth ! ' Then God spoke 
to him : * O thou, enwrapped in thy mantle, arise and warn ! ' 
From this point the prophet commenced his composition of the 
<Jur'a.n.l7 A Hindu mother p.issing a haunted place draws her 
robe over her child. In old Bengal there was a prayer for the 
protection of children till they were dressed in clothes.is 

In its sexual and supernatural uses alike the 
veil protects both the face or head from sight and 
the eyes from seeing the forbidden or dangerous 
object. To see and to be seen are often inter- 
changeable, and often combined as media of 
dangerous intluences. In early Arabia handsome 
men veiled their faces to preserve themselves from 

1 Praeer, Om iii. 76. 




, Madras, 1896, p. 192. 

• GrifSa, Corea,i)u) Hermit Nation, 1882, p. 208. 

' Tijdtchri/t vonr yederlandBchlndia, iii. 2 (1840) 24H. 

» A. Strang!!, J)ie Buliiaren, I.«inzig, 1898, p. 414. 

» Roaooe, quoted bv Frazer, GB2 i2. 4031. 

" i- 1* Wilson, Western Africa, 186«, p. 28. 

II Bancroft, I. 744 f. 

" Radloir, Am SMrien^, I^ipzig, 189S, 11. 55. 

" Wilkes, (7..f. Kzptor. Kxped. \s:^1, ill. 10. 14 1 K 223" 

'» N. Graafland, Ije itinahaisa, 1887, 1. 326. 

I. 5J?P'',.^'''"'- •'" *'• Africa, 1860, p. 464. 17 E. Sell 5 

" BO xriiL 441 ; Oolebrooke, Essays, 1868, L as. 



the evil eye.' Here there is no doubt a combina- 
tion of subjective and objective methmls. The 
veiling of women and the consequent artificial 
modesty concerning the exposure of the face are a 
remarkable characteristic of Musalman social life, 
and illustrate the secondary habits induced by 
dress. Ceremonial veiling of a temporary nature 
is found in the case of puberty, marriage, and 
widowhood. The novice during initiation to the 
Ko'tikili of the Zuiii wears a veil, and is supposed 
to see nothing.* Similar practices attend initiation 
to many forms of secret society. The veiling of 
the bride is more or less universal. A Musalman 
woman takes the veil, just as does a nun. Mo- 
mentary veilin" occurs in the presence of death 
and in approaching a deity. Socrates and Julius 
Cffisar veiling their faces at the moment of death 
typified the Greek and Italian national custom. To 
interpret, as Van Gennep does, these latter cases 
as rites of passage, with the purpose of separating 
one's self from the profane world, is fanciful.' The 
habit is more probably a motor reaction to the 
impulse for concealment before an object of fear. 
The veil of the bride is a ritual concession to, and 
a material accentuation of, the sexual character of 
modesty, rather than a rite of separation from the 
previous state. To apply the idea of separation 
from the previous state to the habit of veiling at 
the moment of death is clearly impossible. In the 
case of many secret societies veiling is probably 
intended merely to accentuate the sense of mystery. 

In connexion with marriage there are customs of 
stripping or forcible removal of dress. In some 
cases these seem to point to a diminution of per- 
sonality, in others they are preparatory to the 
assumption of a new dress, often presented by the 
bridegroom. Among the Koro tribes of New 
Guinea a nubile girl is tatued, and wears orna- 
ments every day. After marriage, for a few weeks 
she decorates herself every afternoon. She may 
not visit her father's vUlage until after a ceremony 
in which she is stripped of all her finery.* The 
idea, no doubt, is to affirm her subjection to her 
father's family. 

The exchange of presents of dress, a prevalent 
custom at marriage, may be extended. 

Thus, the Koita of I-iew Guinea hold the heni ceremony when 
a first-bom child is three weeks old. The infant ia decked with 
various finery, and is carried by the mother, also dressed up, to 
her mother's house. Her husband follows her with an empty 
pot, a spear, a petticoat, and a firestick. After smoking and 
betel-chewing, the wife of the child's maternal uncle strips the 
ornaments and clothes from the mother and the child. These 
and the articles carried by the father become the property of 
the raimu and the waliia, the grandfather and grandmother on 
the maternal side. A return present is given. 6 

Customs which prescribe the wearing of best 
clothes or of rags illustrate the most important 
psychological result of the invention of dress. This 
IS a secondary human character, the feeling for 
dress, and is one aspect (consisting in extension of 
self-consciousness) of the reaction to extension of 
personality. It is really distinct from the feeling 
for ornament and the impulse to protection, but is 
correlated with the more physical impulse to 
cleanliness, and the dermal and nervous icline- 
ment which dress has introduced into the human 
organism. Connected with the latter development 
are various reactions in the spheres of art and 
etiquette. Stanley Hall finds that 'of the three 
functions of clothes — protection, orn.amcnt, and 
Lotze's self- feeling' — the second is by far the most 
conspicuous in childhood." But the sense of per- 
sonal dignity and physical pride is only latent in 
childliood. Of the psychicalresultants of dress this 
adult character is the most significant. As Lotze 

1 Wellhausen, lieste arab. Ileidentunii^, Berlin, 1897, p. 190. 

2 Stevenson, in S.? JtllEW (1904), p. 103. 

3 Van Gennep, 241 ; also S. Keinacb, Cultes, mylhea, et re- 
ligions, 1905, i. '299-311. 

4 Seligmann, 266, 270. » 76. 71. « AJPs, 1898, p. 868. 



DRESS 



SIT 



pnt it, clothes extend the limits of self and enable 
the wearer to feel himself to the extremity of each 
garment. A precise analogy is found in the 
psychology of tools. Add the sexual factor, and 

the mere presence or possession of the article [of clothing] 
gives the required sense of self-respect, of human dignity, of 
sexual desirability. Thus it is that to unclothe a person is to 
humiliate him ; this was so even in Homeric times, for we may 
recall the threat of Ulysses to atrip Thersites.' i 
Similarly, to foul a person s garments is a second- 
arily direct insult. When the sense of well-being 
is at a maximum, fine dress is an expression of it 
and an adaptation to it. Also, on momentous 
occasions a man of any period will dress very 
carefully, unconsciously intending to affirm and 
emphasize his personality. Conversely, to express 
misery, the negation of well-being, or humility, a 
negative form of dress is employed ; value, colour, 
and style are at a minimum. The diminution of 
personality is echoed by wearing rags, sackcloth, 
or colourless or torn or dirty clothes, which act as 
adaptations to the negative state. Momentary 
diminutions of personality can only be expressed 
by partial unclothing or by fouling or tearing the 
dress. In both cases the dress or its treatment has 
a reaction on the psychical state of the individual. 

On these foundations luxury and superstition 
have erected a mass of fashions. Two typical 
cases follow. 

Great personages in Siam used to wear clothes of a different 
colour for each day of the week. As an example, white was 
worn on Sunday, yellow on Monday, green on Tuesday, red on 
Wednesday, blue on Thursday, black on t'Tiday, violet on 
Saturday." 

The primary meaning of the dress next cited is not talismanic, 
but a suggestion of well-being. Its magical content is secondary, 
and it is therefore considered here particularly. The Chinese 
giu i, * the garment for a long life,' is a long gown of valuable 
silk, blue or red-brown, with a lining of bright blue. It in em- 
broidered all over with gold-threa<l characters, representing the 
word * longevity.' ' It purports in the first place to prolone the 
life of the owner, who therefore frequently wears it, especially 
on festive occasions, In order to allow the influences of longevity, 
created by the many characters wherewith it is decorated, to 
work their fall effect upon his person. On the anniversary of 
his birth he will scarcely ever neglect doing so, it being generally 
acknowledged among the Chinese that it is extremely useful and 
necessary then to ab^rb a good amount of vital energy, in order 
to remain hale and healthy during the ensuinjf year. ?'riend8 and 
kinsmen who throng the house to take part m the festivities will 
then, as a rule, greatly admire the dress and tender their reiter- 
ated congratulations to the happy wearer, whose children have 
been so fli jal, and so blessed by fate as to have Iwstowcd a present 
of such delicate and precious description.' The longevity gar- 
ment is generally the giftof cbiUlren who are filial enough to wish 
tiieir parent to live long. There is considerable ceremony about 
the presentation. The gannent should be made if possible in a 
year which has an intercalary month ; such a year naturally has 
an infiuence on length. In accordance with Chinese ideas about 
sympathy between ascendants and descendants, the garment 
also ensures long life to its wearer's posterity.^ 

In hunting, aa in war, the human impulse is to 
emphasize per.sonality. This is more powerful 
than the iniiml.se to protection, though the two 
may be combined. 

The Uayaks wear as wardress a ho-iket-work hat, katapu, and 
a Jacket of skin or quilteil cotton. The crown of the helmet U 
adorned with feathers or fall plumes. The gagong, or war 
jacket of skin, has the animal's face on the wearer's stomach, 
and its back hanging over his shoulders. It is little defence, 
though the hea<l is covered with a plate or shell to protect the 
pit of the stomach.* 

The mere fact that in all periods social meetings 
are the occasion for the wearing of best clothes 
indicates the social significance of dress. Dress 
loses half its meaning except in relation to society. 
The principle of extension of personality refers to 
the individualistic a.spect of dress ; the principle of 
adaptation to state is its social side. The vaguely 
termed ' festival ' of lower cultures is expressive of 
mutual well-wishing and of common well-being." 
At festivals the Ainus dress in tlieir iiest clothes. 
The statement applies to all peoples. The 
individualistic form of the social meeting is 
amphitryonic. 

iff. Ellfi, i. 40; «. il. 281 

» Pallegoix, Siam, Paris, 1854, i. 310. 

> Dc Oroot, 1. 01 ff. 4 Brooke Low, in J A I xxil. (1892) 63. 

»PraiCT,eBSll.877. 



As ia the rule with all peoples, the Quiana Indian, ' when ex- 
pecting guests, grooms himself carefully and puts on his best 
dress and ornaments, these often, as in this case, consisting 
only of a narrow waist-cloth by way of dress and of a necklace 
and armleta of white beads by way of ornament.' 1 

A few types of festal dress may be cited from 
a variety which exceeds all other forms of human 
inventiveness — a fact which illustrates both man's 
physical pride and his tendency to shift its focus 
to an artificial and variable substitute. 

The Manipuri festal head-dress is remarkable. ' A white 
turban is bound tightly round the head, and over the top and 
in front is wound round a shumzil, a horn-shaped construction 
of cane bound over with cloth or gold braid, and ending al)Ove 
in a loop and below in three flat loops which are concealed 
under the turban. The shumzil is over a foot high, and curves 
slightly backwards ; from the loop at its end hangs an embroi- 
dered streamer. On each side of the head a plume nm<le of 
peacocks' feathers and the tail feathers of the hombill are 
inserted in the turban. . . . The whole structure is bound to- 
gether by a narrow band of red and white embroidery, wound 
round and round and tied, under the chin, with ends* hanging 
down nearly t<J the waist.' 3 On high days Tangkhul men wear 
a kilt, and the luhicp head-dress adorned with toucan feathers 
and tresses of hair.3 The Woolwa Indians wear on festal occa- 
sions coronets made of the curly head-feathers of the curassow, 
and on the arms, feathers of the macaw, or yellow tail-feathers 
of the Oetinops tnontzuiruxA The women wear great masses of 
beads round the neck, sometimes occupying the whole space 
from the bosom to the chin. A petticoat of bark-cloth extends 
below the knee ; it is wrapped round the loins, and the end is 
tucked in over the hip. The exposed parts of the skin are dyed 
a deep vermilion, the colour being extracted from the pod of 
the arnotto shrub.s 

The Ackawoi wear for festivals a dress made of the bright, 
greenish yellow, young leaves of the Acta palm {Mauritia 
jlexiwaa). The Macusi wears a head-dress of bright parrot and 
macaw feathers, a ruff of black curassow and white egret 
feathers, and a strip of waist-cloth, as a dancing dress."* At 
the feasts of the dead, Quoireng men wear a ' glory.' "riua con- 
sists of bands of yellow and red thread, one and a half inches 
wide, bound round the head. In them are fixed rays of 
bamboo with feathers inserted, the structure being eighteen 
inches in height.? 

The dance is a social language, a motor expres- 
sion of individuality in society. As a rule, best 
clothes are worn. Various circumstances often 
impose difi'erent fashions. For ceremonial danc- 
ing the Vedda puts on the hangala, a white cloth 
tied round the waist. Formerly leaf-girdles were 
used." Probably such costumes are merely for 
the facilitation of movement. In other cases 
regard is paid to the dance as such. The female 
dancing dress of the Fula.s is elaborate, made of 
velvet or ornamental cloth, sometimes decked 
with bells which sound in time to the music' 

Meetings of society in its magical or spiritual 
character are no less marked by fine clothes. The 
Qur'an says : ' Wear your goodly apparel when ye 
repair to my mosque.'" The injunction applies to 
all religions, with the limitation (due to the differ- 
ence between well-willing .and well-being, and later 
to the distinction between worshippers and deity) 
that excess of luxury is forbidden or discourage<l. 
Cleanliness of attire is regularly enjoined, origin- 
ally, perhaps, for the avoidance not of defilement, 
material or supernatural, but of mixture of states. 
Just as all sacrifice should be precious, so should 
a dress - wearing victim be well dres.sed. The 
human victim sacrificed by the Pawnees was 
dressed in the richest raiment." The meriah of 
the Khonds was dressed in a new garment before 
the sacrifice, anointed, and adorned with flowers." 
For scapegoats the case may be different. When 
tlie image of the god is clothed it necessarily wears 
tlie richest raiment (see below). 

The connexion of line dress with well-being, and 
the estimate of clothing as a necessary of exist- 
ence," are combined in the Hebrew belief that 

1 Im Thurn, in J At xxii. (1893) 190. 

a J. Shakespcar, in J A I xl. (1910) 363 f. » T. O. ItodsoD, 22. 

■• H. A. Wickham, \nJAl xxiv. (1894) 203. 

» lb. 204. 6 i,„ Thurn, J A I xxii. 195. 

' T. O. Hodson, 20. 8 (j. o. and H. Z, Selignmnn, 213. 

9 0. F. Scott Elliott, \nJAI xxiii. (lSfi.i)»I. 

10 Sura vii. 29. " Frazer, Git' ii. 2.'i8. 

'2 8. O. Macphergon, Memorials nf Service in India, 1S05, 
p. 118. 

13 See U 3?. 



66 



DRESS 



Jahweh was the nltimate donor of food and rai- 
ment.' The teaching of Clirist acainst ' takine 
thought' for raiment, ilhistrated by tlio natural 
dreas of tlie lilies of the iiold,' was a wise protest 
against extravagance in the cult of this secondary 
body, and a timely rehabilitation of the body 
itself, no less than of the higher claims of per- 
sonality. 

Diminution of personality is syml)olized by 
various customs of removing part of the dress. 
In India a low-caste man passing through a high- 
caste street must take off shoes and turban.' That 
the reason for such uncovering is not the assumption 
of an unprotected state, by removing a garment 
of defence, is sho>\'n by such a case as the follow- 
ing. All persons when interviewing Montezuma 
put off their usual costume and ' appeared in plain 
coarse dresses and barefooted.'' The modem 
European fashion of removing the hat is a saluta- 
tion of respect of a similar order, and not a 
removal of defence. 

A permanent inferiority of person or status is 
expressed by inferiority of dress. 

' in Flores the sons even of rich families are dressed lilce 
slaves at public feasts, so long as the father lives, as also at his 
funeral. This ... is apparently the external sigTi of a strict 
patria potestas, which remains in force till the funeral ; until 
then the son is the father's slave.' ^ It is a very marked 
custom of the Mpongwe for the young to show deference to the 
old. ' They must never come into the presence of aged persons 
or pass by their dwellings without tijcing o£F their hats, and 
assuming a crouching gait.' ^ 

An artificial assumption of humility may be 
employed to emphasize the succeeding magnifi- 
cence, or to deprecate the ill-luck which may 
follow pride. For some days before marriage tlie 
bride and bride^oom among the Musalmans of 
the N.W. Provinces wear dirty clothes.' Such 
practices may soon take on the ideas connected 
with disguise and protection from the evil eye. 
Similar, though of more obscure origin, is the 
custom, found in old English coronation cere- 
monies, that the king shall appear in poor gar- 
ments l>efore he is invested with the royal robes. 
German peasants dress a child in mean clothes to 
protect it against the evil eye. In Egypt the 
children who are most beloved are the worst clad. 
A fine lady may often l>e seen in a magnificent 
dress, with a Xmy or girl, her own child, by her side, 
with its face smeared with dirt, and wearing clothes 
which look as if they had not been washed for 
months. The intention is to avoid attracting the 
evil eye. The method employed is not disguise, 
but humiliation, negation of well-being, eitlier 
deprecatory or to escape notice. The evil eye is 
stimulated by finery and splendour, and its constant 
emotion is envy.' 

Penance and asceticism often coincide in method. 
Sackcloth is in this connexion the analogue of 
fasting and humiliation. 

For penance, Manu prescribes clothes of cow-hair, with the 
wearer's own hair in braids.^ Among the riiles of penance in 
mediajval Christendom was the wearing of dirty clothes. 10 An 
ancient rule for Bu<l(lhist monks was that their dress should 
be made of rags taken from a dustheap.n Early Christian 
ascetics disdained clothes, and crawled abroad 'like animals 
covered only by their matted hair.' 12 Ilindn ascetics similarly 
practised nudity as the least of their mortiflcations, 'until 
British law interposed to prevent the continuance of the 
nuisance.' 13 

A curious qnestion is raised by certain fashions 
of cleanliness in connexion with dress. Physical 
cleanliness is a habit which has undergone evolu- 

1 On tP": • a Mt e^f- 

« J. E. Podfleld, 73. » Payne, ii. 496. 

» Wcstermarck, MT i. 602, quoting von Martens. 

• J. L. Wilson, 892 f. 7 Crooke, in PNQ li. (1886) 960. 
» rioss, i. 1S4 ; Lane, Modem Bgnptiam, 1846, i. 60. 

• SHE XXY. (1886) 440. 

'« Westemiarck, Ml 11. SS6. 

" II. Kem, Manxiat qf Indian Buddhian, Strassburg, 1896, 
p. 75. 

" Westermarck, Ml il. S66, quoting Leoky, Bist. of European 
MoraU, 1890, ii. loa. • .■ ■ J i^ 

u Monler-WUllami 896. 



tion, and the fact perhaps suffices as an explana- 
tion for the following cases. 

The ancient Huns and Mongols, and the modem Kalmuks, 
are reported to avoid the washing of their clothes— in the loot 
case, apparently, for religious reasons.i The Sudros of the 
Carnatic never leave off a suit of clothes when once it has been 
put on. It drops off as it rots. The custom is said to hare 
been religiously ol«ervcd, and persons transgressing it and 
found changing garments before the old set was thoroughly 
decayed were excluded from the caste.^ Jenghiz Khan ordered 
clothes to be worn till they dropped off in tatters. The wearing 
of clothes in this way is recorded of several people*. Oold 
climates encourage such habits.^ * Poverty,' says Westermarck, 
'is for obvious reasons a cause of uncleanliness ; "a starving 
vulture neglects to polish his feathers, and a famished dog has 
a ragged coat." '4 Cleanliness, again, is frequently *a class 
distinction.' Among the Point Barrow Eskimo, as amongst 
many modern European nations, the poorer people are often 
careless about their clothes and persons, whereas ' most of the 
wealthier people appear to take pride in being neatly dad.'^ 
Peoples who are much addicted to bathing are not on that 
account necessarily cleanly in habits of toilet and dress. The 
Californian Indians are fond of bathing, but are very uncleanly 
about their lodges and their clothes.l The case of the Aus- 
tralian native, who never takes off his girdle of hair, is rather 
different ;7 the analogy here is the non-removal of such articles 
as rings. Thus, while her husband is alive, no Masai woman 
dares to take off her ear-rings, which are ftart of the symbols of 
marriage.** 

Ideas of ceremonial cleanliness have probably 
had an important collateral influence upon the 
evolution of habits of cleanliness. Some such idea 
as the avoidance of mixture of condition and en- 
vironment may account for the origin of ceremonial 
purity, whereas during the early stages of the 
evolution of dress there seems to be no or priori 
reason why clothes, as such, should be periodically 
cleaned. The case of the Sabseans illustrates the 
connexion between cleanliness of dress and of 
person. The candidate for the priestly office is in- 
structed not to dirty himself ; and he must change 
his dress daily." Given the existence of a natural 
impulse to personal and other cleanliness, its 
foundation being similar to that of ceremonial 
purity — an unconscious preference for clearness and 
distinctness in objects, a j)reference for the thing 
itself in its essential, specific, and individual, or 
unmixed, purity of character — asceticism, when, as 
is often the case, encouraging uncleanliness, is a 
biological perversion and a social danger. Early 
Christianity was largely tainted with tUis.'" St. 
Jerome approves the observation of Paula, that 
' the purity of the body and its garments means 
the impurity of the soul.' " 

The ritual and emotional removal or tearing of 
dress is apparently derived from several motives. 
The Hebrew widow repudiating the levirate takes 
off her sandal and spits on the ground.'^ In Van 
Gennep's terminology this is a rite of separation 
from tne husband's family. Among the ancient 
Arabs, women when mourning not only uncovered 
the face and bosom, but also tore all their gar- 
ments. The messenger who brought bad news 
tore his garments. A mother desiring to bring 
pressure to bear on her son took off her clothes. 
' A man to whom vengeance was forbidden showed 
his despair and disapproval ... by raising his 
garment and covering his head with it, as was 
done in fulfilling natural necessities.'" Among 
the Cliuwashes, Clieremiss, and Wotyaks, the hus- 
band eflects divorce by tearing his wife's veil." 
Similar customs, especially the rending of the 
garments to express indignation or repudiation, 
were prevalent among the Hebrews. Tlie British 

1 K. F. Neumann, Die Vollcer dee tudliehen Rueslande, 
Leipzig, 1847, p. 27 ; J. Oeorgi, Rueeia, London, 1780-S, iv. S7. 

a Dubois-Beauchamp, Hindu Mannen, p. 20. 

S Westermarck, MI ii. S49ff. 

* lb., quoting B. St. .lohn, Village Life in Egypt, 1862, 1. 187 

» Murdoch, in 9 IIBEW (1892), p. 421 ; Westermarck, 11. 860. 

» 8. Powers, Tribee of California, Washington, 1877, p. 403. 

7 P. W. Bassett Smith, in J A I xxiii. (1893) 327. 

« Hollis, 283. 

« N. Siouffl, Sludessur la rel. des ffoubbae, Paris, 1880, p. 68 f. 

10 See H. Ellis, iv, ch. 4. " Ep. cviii. 713. 

l» JE, i.v. ' palijah." " Wellhausen, 196 f . 

>4 Oeorgi, i. 42. 



DRESS 



Columbian expresses indignation against a wrong 
by destroying a number of blankets, the native 
currency. His adversary is expected to destroy 
an e<yial number to satisfy honour and heal the 
quarrel. 

The rending of garments is perhaps a develop- 
ment from the reflex impulse to destruction gener- 
ated by anger, indignation, or despair. When it 
becomes symbolic it may take on the character of 
a rite of separation, the rending of the garment 
indicating the severance of a tie or the isolation of 
the person from calamity or injury. In tlie 
Hebrew custom the latter seems to be the prevail- 
ing meaning of the rite — a meaning which might 
naturally be superposed upon an original uncon- 
scious reaction to emotions of resentment or 
sorroAv. Stripping, as an indignity or penance, is 
applied to any person. Tims, when his guardian- 
spirit fails to please him, the Eskimo will strip it of 
its garments.^ 

(5) Dress of the dead. — Like other states, deatli 
ia marked and solemnized by a change of dress. 
In modem civilization, the corpse, whether em- 
balmed or not, is swathed or loosely Avrapped in 
linen or cotton cloths, and covered with the gar- 
ment, if any, most typical of the dead person's 
official position. In particular cases, customs like 
that of placing the busby on the coffin involve 
the idea that official dress is more than individual 
personality, a special covering representing special- 
ized social functions, whereas lay garments repre- 
sent generalized. 

Among earlier peoples it is the general rule to 
dress the dead person in his best clothes. Typical 
cases are the American Indians, Burmans, 'long- 
kingese, Maoris, Greeks, and Chinese.^ Careful 
washing and scrupulous toilette are no less sig- 
nificant and prevalent parts of the more or less 
ceremonial investiture oi the dead. 

Among the Tshi and Ewe peoples the dead body is washed, 
dressed in the richest clothes^ and adomed.3 The Yorubas 
dress the corpse in the best raiment. The exposed parta of a 
woman's body are dyed red. The body is wrapped not in 
clothes, but in grass mats.^ Amon^ the Koita of New Guinea 
the dead man is washed, oiled, and painted ; a new loin-rloth 
and ornaments are put on him." The Greenlanders undress a 
man when at the point of death, and put his beat clothes upon 
him." This detail recurs in China. The Hindus wash, shave, 
and dress the corpse in rich garments.? 

According to Homer, tjie corpse was covered with a soft 
cloth, over whtcli a wliite robe was placed. 9 The Greek dead 
were shrouded in the handsomest garments the family could 
afford ; there was an idea of keeping them warm on the passage 
to Hades, uid of preventing Cerberus from seeing them naked.^ 
The modem Greeks dress the dead in best clothes, but these 
are rendered OBeless by being snipped with scissors or drenched 
with 00.10 

The grave-clothes of a Chinese are arranged round his dying 
bed. His boots are by his feet, his hat b^ his head, and so on. 
He rejoices, In bis last moments of consciousness, ' that he will 
be fashionably attired in the regions beyond the grave.' It was 
the old custom to strip the man of his clothes just before 
expiring, and to put the new clothes on, if possible, l>efore 
death actually occurred. ^^ The Chinese ritual of dressiiif,' the 
dead is most elaborate. The curious point is that the cori>se is 
swathed almost as thickly as an Elgyptian mummy, but in suits 
of clothes, nob bands of cloth. A distinction is made between 
inner and outer garments, the former l>eing specially prepared 
for wear in the grave, the latter being, as a rule, a person's best 
or favourite clothes. Five suits of v ments are forbirlden, be- 
oaoae the number five is a synonym o. ;vil.i2 Nine and thirteen 
are Jisiial numbers. Kven numbers symbolize the Kin part of 
Nature, cold, darkness, and evil; they are therefore avoided - 
and odd numbers typifying the opposite blessings are nscd.^^ 
Confacius was buried in eleven suits and one court dress ; on 



J Turner, in // RTiEW mu), p. 194. 

2 Schoolcraft, Indian JVftca, 18.^3-7, ii. 68; Bancroft, i. 86; 
Lafltan, Maun dtn sauvageg amM^tains, 1724, iL 380 ; 8hway 
Voe (J. O. Scott], The Burman, 1896, ii. 83^ ; J. Q. Scott, 
France and Tongkinq, 1885, p. 97 ; R. Taylor, Te ika a Maui, 
«8; FLJ ii. (ISHi) 168 f. ; Frazer, in JAI xv. (1886) 75, 86. 

S A. B. Ellis, Tnhi-speaking Peoples, 1887, p. 237, also Ewe- 
apeaking Peoples, 1890, p. 167. 

* A. B. Ellis, Tomba-speaking Peoples, 1804, pp. 156, 158. 

» Seligmann, 159. 6 Crantz, 217. 7 J. A. Dubois, 503. 

8 Od. xxiv. 293. » Luoian, de Litciu, 10. 

10 FLJ ii. 168 f. " De Groot, 1. 6. 

" lb. 64. 13 Jb. 66. 



his bead was a chang-fu cap. But, in accordance with the 
ancient division of the dressing into three stages, the body- 
clothes, the 'slighter* dressing-, and the 'full' dressing,^ the 
eleven suits comprised the first stage only, and over them were 
the ' slighter ' and the ' fuller ' dressinga.a The clothes are ex- 
hibited to those present before each suit is put on, and the very 
elaborate rules of the Li-ki about tlie dressing of the dead are 
followed.^ E*reviou8ly the best or favourite suit is placed round 
the dying man. Before being placed on the corpse, the clothes 
are put on the chief mourner. He is stripped, and stands on a 
tray resting on a chair, *8o as not to pollute the earth*; he 
wears a large round hat, *80 as not to pollute heaven.' Then 
each garment is put upon him in its proper order, and after- 
wards taken off and put on the corpse. In the case of a woman, 
the eldest son, as chief mourner, still has to put the clothes 
on.* The Li-ki explains the custom by the analogy of a dutiful 
son testing a medicine before his father drinks tt.^^ As the 
dressing proceeds the mourners wail and ' howl.' ^ Wide drawers, 
lined, for comfort, with silk, are first put on. Stockings and a 
jacket follow. An ordinary jacket of linen, cotton, or silk, and 
trousers of the same material come next. A second jacket or 
even a third — the more there are the more devotion is ex- 
pressed— may be added. When the body-clothes have been 
put on, the outer suits follow. The long blue gown of the 
middle class is a common type. It overlaps to the right, and is 
buttoned at the side. Over this is a jacket with short sleeves, 
extending, that is, only to the finger-tips ; it is the kind of 
jacket used in winter as an overcoat. A common skull-cap of 
silk or horse hair, ordinary shoes and stockings, complete the 
suit. The costly silk clothes used on festive occasions are 
preferred by those who possess them. They represent the true 
sacerdotal attire of the paterfamilias, as high priest of the 
family.^ These include an outer and an inner cloak, neither 
having a collar ; the sleeves of the inner cloak project, and are 
of a horse-hoof shape. The inner is dark blue ; for summer 
wear, white or yellow ; the outer is dark blue or brown. A sash 
is worn round the waist. The boots are of silk. The winter 
suit alone is used for the dead, even in summer. Women wear 
their best embroidered clothes, such as the official dress of 
mandarins* wives, which is the regular bridal costume. It 
includes a dr^on petticoat of green silk, a dragon mantle of 
red silk, a mantilla of black silk, and boots of red silk. The 
bride's hood, or phoanix cap, is a quarter-globe of thin twined 
wire, covered with butterflies, leaves and flowers of thin gilt 
copper, and sj-mbols of felicity, joy, wealth, and longevity. 
Great care is taken with the coiffure.8 

Such is the thopkao, attire of the dead. Women, as a rule, 
wear the 'longevity garment,' but men prefer the true 
'sacrificial* robes, the tho phao.^ One prepares them, *the 
clothing laid out for old age,' at about the age of 50 or 60. 
They are preferably cut out and sewn by a very young woman, 
such a person being likely to live long, and part of her capacity 
to live 'must surely pass into the clothes, and thus put off for 
many years the moment when they shall be required for use.*io 

If these clothes have ever been lent to a friend, not of one's 
own clan, they may not be used for their chief purpose. 
Another suit must be prepared. However it may happen, it is 
a curious fact that the grave-clothes are often cut carelessly, 
and merely pasted, not sewn." Quite poor people use cheap 
mate. It is probably Buddhist influence that forbids the use of 
leather. Metal buttons may not be used, because metal is 
supposed to injure the body during decomposition. la 

The Malays shroud the dead body in fine new sarongs, some* 
times as many as seven. 13 

Tlie bandages of the mummy are a development (for a 
particular purpose) from the use of the ordinary garments of 
life. In ancient I-^ypt the gods were invoked to grant clothing 
to the dead. The bandaging of the mummy corresponds in ito 
ritualism very much, for example, with the Chinese dressing of 
the corpse. For instance, a sorrowing husband reproaching 
his wife for haunting him says: 'I have given clothes and 
bandages for thy burial. I have griven to be made for thee 
many clothes.' The application of the swathes was 'a divine 
task.' In funeral rituals there are the chapters ' of putting on 
the white bandages,* 'of putting on the green,' and 'of the 
light red and dark red bandages.' The quantity used was a 
' measure of the affection of the relative8.'i4 

As a type of simpler customs the following 
explains itself, and is significant for the whole 
theory of the suhject : 

The Samoyeds dress the corpse in the clothes he was wearing 
at death, and wrap the whole in birch baric or deer skins.^^ 

Rare cases occur where derogatory garments are 
applied. The Avestan horror of death and its 
defilement sufficiently explains the following rule : 

Zoroastrian law ordained 'clothing which Is useless; this is 
that in which they should carry a corpse.' In the case of still 
useful clothing, which had been touched by a corpse, a very 
thorough and minute process of cleaning was applied. is 



iDeGroot, 1.338 f. 




2/6.339. «/6. 341. 


♦ //(. 67f. 




5 lb. 68. « lb. 67. 


7 76. 48 ff., 49. 




1 Jb. 61-64. » lb. 63. 


10 lb. 60. 




"/6. 61. "76. 65f. 


isskcat, SB7. 






14 A. Manalister, in J A I xxiii. (1893) 107, lOS, HI. 


iSMontefiorc, in Jil/ 


xxiv. (18«.')) 40«. 


16 ' I'ahlavi Texts ' (E. 


W. 


Wust), in .9BB V. (1880) 269. > 



5S 



DRESS 



When preservatives are not applied to the grave- 
riixlicall y i 



clothes, some peoples perio<lically renew tliera. 
The bodies of the Cotpac-lncas were preserved and do 
new olotbes tKinK supplied as re<)uired.> At stat«d periods Uie 



The bodies of the Ccapac-lncas were preserved and clothed, 
lew olotbes lieini; supplied as required.' At stat«d periods the 
Malagasy opin the tonihs o( their ancestors, removing the 



rotten larnban and rollint; the bones in new ones.' 

A simpler method is to place changes of raiment 
in the grave, just as other articles of use are there 
deposited. 

In Vedic times, clothing and ornaoienta were placed with the 
dead for their use in tiie life to come.3 The Chinese place 
clothes and silk in the grave, besides the numerous suits in 
which the dead man is clothed.^ Clothing, according to 
Pahlavi texts, was to be put upon the sacred cake of the ' right* 
eous guanlian spirit'— both for its use in the other wofld.5 
The cTothin<; ancl weapons deposited in the Kayan grave are of 
the highest value, no nroken or damaged article being deemed 
worthy of a place.5 On the other hand, many peoples render 
such articles useless by cutting or breaking them before deposit 
tion ; and a principle commonly occurs that in this way the 
souls of the articles are released (as is the soul from the broken 
body of the dead manX i^nd are thus able to accompany him to 
theplace of the departed. 

There is naturally some doubt as to the condi- 
tion of the soul in its super-terrestrial home. 

Thus the soul of the Mexican, at death, entered the new life 
naked ; ^ whereas the soul of the dead Iroquois wears ' a beauti- 
ful mantle ' when it departs towards the other world in the 
west.s The ghost is believed by Africans to wear the white 
cloth in which the body was buried.* But, as has been seen, 
the person in the life to come wears similar dress to what he 
wore on earth. There are refinements ; Christian eschatology 
in its popular aspects is inclined to invest the blessed with Bne 
raiment and crowns of gold. 

As for the meaning behind these customs, there 
seems to be, as usual, a series of moral strata or 
psychological layers. Various emotions might be 
supposed to be in competition as soon as attention 
was directed to the dress of a man ju.st dead. 
Other things being equal, and before ideas of 
contagion on the one hand and of a future life on 
the other had been developed, principles of pro- 
perty and feelings of sorrow would first come into 
play, together with the principle of dress as an 
adaptation to state. 

Thus the Samoyed type may be one of the earliest. The 
corpse retains the garments he wore at death. He is prepared 
for the new state \v the protective (both of external and of 
internal direction) covering of bark or similar substance, which 
takes the place of the coffin. 

Sorrow and affection would make the stripping 
of the corpse an act impossible for relatives. As 
the various ideas relating to the state of the dead 
became clearer, regard would be had to the com- 
fort of the dead. No less than the living they must 
have the two great necessaries, food and raiment. 
Naive examples of the idea are numerous. 

For instance, the natives of New South Wales wrapped the 
corpse in a rug, tor the purpose, expressed, of keeping the dead 
man warm.ii) In Voigtland peasants have been known to put an 
ombrella and goloshes in the coffin, as a protection against the 
rainy skies of the other world." 

Later still there would supervene the idea, of 
complex origin, that articles in the house of death 
must be, like the occupant, broken and soulless. 
One component of this idea is perhaps as early as 
any, namely, the realization that articles of value, 
permanently deposited in a place by no means 
secure, and practically known to be unused, should 
be rendered useless, to avoid roblieiy and the 
attendant distressing results of exhumation. 

With the custom of dressing the dead in his 
richest raiment, and in many suits, the problem 
becomes less simple. First of all, as soon as the 
social consciousness realizes that death is a social 
state, and therefore to be solemnized, a change of 
garb is necessary. What are signilicantly termed in 

1 Payne, ii. 620 f. 

» Matthews, Thirtp rears in Madagascar, 1904, p. 202. 

• A. A. Macdonell, Vedic Mythol. 185. 

• De Oroot, ii. 392, 3<)9. 

• • Pahlavi Texts,' in SliR v. (1880) 383. 

• HoK, In JAI xxiii. (1893) 105. 7 Payne. Ii 407 
» J. N. n. Hewitt, in J A Fl. viii. (1896) 107. 

» Crawley, Idea o/ the Soul, 175, 170. 

10 J. VTtuKr,Ah,mginetofN.S. Walts, Sydnev, 1892, p. 79 f. 
441 ■'"n'ef. Volktln-aiuik in Vmgllande, lieip^g, 1867 



various languages ' the last offices ' express this prin- 
ciple, as well as the feelings of sorrow and affection, 
and the desire to do honour to the dead, as for the 
last time. In such conditions it is inevitable that 
the best of everything should ha accorded to him. 
Bnt another factor perhaps is inclu<le<l in the com- 
plex psychosis, at least in the earlier stages. This 
is economic. In early culture, clothes are property. 
Jnst as a man's property is called in and realized 
at his death, so a similar process is universal in 
mankind. The dead man is still a member of 
society ; and the most personal and most distinc- 
tive of liis property fittingly remains with liim — 
his personal attire. Equally fitting is it that this 
item should be of the liest, as representing him in 
the last of his social functions. By a pathetic 
paradox he is arrayed in his best clothes, as if 
to assert his personality and to express it in its 
highest terms, for the last time, though actually 
that personality is no more. 

It IS not likely that the dressing in fine clothes 
to tempt the departing or absent soul to return 
has any reference in this connexion. The custom 
of using many suits of raiment, carried to logical 
absurdity by the Chinese, is one of those problems 
that elude all rationalism. There is the analogy 
of the mummy-swathings, which suggests that 
the suits may be intended as a protection ; there 
is also an idea of placing on or with the corpse all 
his available assets. The custom of dressing the 
dead in their best clothes, as of placing food with 
them, has been explained by Frazer as originating 
' in the selfish but not unkindly desire to induce 
the perturbed spirit to rest in the grave and not 
come plaguing the living for food and raiment.' i 
But the intellectual atmosphere which the explana- 
tion assumes is far from primitive or even from 
early thought. It represents a late, and somewhat 
abnormal or excessive, development of spiritualistic 
belief uncontrolled by social custom or dogma, in 
fact, an anarchic period of individualistic spirit- 
ualist licence. 

The dress of the dead seems to preserve only in 
two or tliree details the principle of adaptation to 
state. The reason, no doubt, is that affection and 
other emotions naturally repudiate the physical 
actuality of that state, and substitute a mortil 
ideal. But the binding of the corpse, or of its 
limbs, with cords or ropes, and the later swathing 
with bandages, accentuate the fact that the body 
is motionless and the limbs quiescent. At a later 
stage there might intervene the notion that by 
these means the possibly dangerous activity of the 
ghost would be checked. But social habits do not 
originate from such clear-cut rationalistic motives. 
Some sporadic customs have probably an ori- 
ginal intention that is not dissimilar. The Koreans 
fasten blinkers over the eyes of the corpse.' Vari- 
ous objects, coins and the like, are placed on the 
eyes of the dead by various peoples. Such habits, 
no doubt, were in origin intended unconscionsly to 
emphasize, to realize by accentuation, the sight- 
less state of the dead. With this intention is com- 
bined the necessity — both from subjective reasons 
of vague fear of the staring eyes, and from the 
natural though sympathetic impulse to close them — 
of mechanically depressing the eyelids after death. 
Possibly the custom of placing a mask over the 
face of the dead has a connected origin, as supply- 
ing, so to speak, like the swathings of the mummy, 
a permanent dermal surface over that which is 
destined to decay. 

Tlie ancient Aztecs, the earliest Greek peoples, the Aleuts, 
Shans, and Siamese, masked the faces of the dead, particularly 
of kings and chiefs.*' In some cases, as those of the Greeks and 
the Shans, the mask is of gold or silver. 

^JAIxy.n. 

» J. Ross, Hiitorp of Corea, Paisley, 1879, p. ,'!25. 

S Bancroft, L W, 11. 600; H. Schliemann, Mycena, 1878, pp. 



DRESS 



59 



(6) Mourning rfrc.?.s.— The social significance of 
dress is well brought out in mourning customs, 
among wliich it is the most prominent. The 
variations are innumerahle, but the principles in- 
volved are fairly clear. A few types only can be 
mentioned here. 

Among the Masai, as mourning the wife puts off her orna- 
ments, and the sons shave their heads.^ As mourning, the 
Andamanese smear themselves with clay ; ancient and modem 
Ejfyptians throw mud on their heads.^ In China the near 
relatives wear a mourning dress of brown coarse sackcloth. 3 
As regards other clothes, white is the colour of mourning. The 
Kifiahs of Borneo ' wear bark cloth round their caps (as we wear 
crape round our hats) to show they are in mourning.** In 
New Guinea, women in mourning wear a net over the shoulders 
and breast. In some parts men wear netted vests ; in others, 
' when in deep mourning, they envelop themselves with a very 
tight kind of wicker-work dress, extending from the neck to the 
knees in such a way that they are not able to walk well.' 5 The 
Koita widow wears fragments of her dead husband's loin-cloth, 
locks of his hair, and bits of his tools, as a necklace. She is 
painted black, and wears a petticoat reaching to the ankles. 
Over the upper body she has two netted vests, the outer orna- 
mented with seeds and feathers. A network cap is on her head. 
This costome is worn for six months, after which she is relieved 
of her mourning by the rohu momomo ceremony, and the petti- 
coat is burnt. The widower is also painted black all over.6 
Among the Roros, a neighbouring people of New Guinea, bones 
of the dead are worn by the mourners. A dead man's jaw is 
often worn as a bracelet.' 

The principle of adaptation in colour is well ex- 
emplified. The most frequent colours used are 
black, white, dark blue, and the natural colours 
of, as a rule, cheap and common fabrics. 

The mourning colour in Korea is that of raw hemp or string. 
For a year the mourner wears the well-known mourner's hat. 
Itfl shape is that of an enormous toadstool, and the face is com- 
pletely hidden. 8 Among the Dayaks of Borneo, white, ' as Ijeing 
the plainest and most unpretending, is worn in mourning and 
during out-door labour ; it is cheap and will wash.' Park 
blue is the commonest colour for ordinary wear. A white head- 
dress is often worn in mourning. » Women wear as mourning 
a deep indigo blue bidang petticoat. lo Among the Tlingits, 
mourners blacken their faces, and cover their heads with ragged 
mats.li Caiabrian women put on a black veil at the moment 
when a death occurs. At sunset it is taken off.l^ Roman 
women put on black palUe after a funeral. Black clothes as 
mourning are the fashion in ancient Greece and Italy, modern 
Greece, and modem Europe generally. l^ White mourning is 
recorded for Korea, Tongking, China, Siam, in Imperial Rome 
for women, and in various parts of modem Europe. 1* In old 
England, white scarves, hatbands and gloves were worn at the 
funerals of infants and the unmarried.12^ At Singapore a white 
sash is worn, but apart from this there is no mourning costume 
in Malaysia. 

Mourners among the Tshi people wear dark blue clothes, which 
they assume as soon as the burial is over.^^ Among the Yor- 
abas a dark blue head-cloth is worn. 17 Among the Ewes of 
Dahomey blue baft is worn, or merely a blue thread is placed 
roand the arm.l^ This fashion is paralleled by the modern 
European custom of wearing a black band round the sleeve. 
In parts of Germany blue is worn as mourning by women, and 
in ancient and modem Egypt a strip of blue is worn ro\md the 
head by women at funerals. Widows on the Slave Coast wear 
black or dark blue. Anne Boleyn wore yellow for Catherine of 



198, 219-223, Sll f. ; Benndorf, Antike Geiro:ht«belme und Sepui- 
cratnuuker, Vienna, 1878, passim; A. R. Colquhoun, Amoiifrnt 
the Shatu, 1885, p. 279 ; Pallegoix, Siam, i. 247. 

1 Hollis, 806. 

»E. H. Man, in JAI xii. 143; Herodotus, il. 85; Wilkinson, 
Mamurs and CUitonu, 1878, iii. 442. 

3 De Groot, I. 13 ; J. Doolittle, Social Life of llie Chinue, 
i. 134. 
' 4 Brooke Low, in JAI xxii. (1892) 37. 

6 Chalmers-Gill, Work and Adventure in New Guinea, 1886, 
pp. 35, 130, 149. 

Seligmann, 16^-166. 

' lb. 719, 721. 

8 gaunderson, in ^/l / xxiv. 304, 306. 

» Brooke Low, lue. eit. 36 f. 

10 lb. 40. 

11 F. Boas, Fifth Report on the Tribes of S.W. Canada, 1889, 
p. 41. 

i>V. Dona, La TradizUme . . . Calabria, Oosenza, 1884, 
p. 91. 

1* Homer, II. xxiv. 94 ; Xenophon, Ilellen. i. 798 ; Marquardt, 
PrivatUhen der Romer^, I^ipzig, 188C, i. 346; Wachsnjuth, 
Da* aite Grieehenland im neiien, Bonn, 1864, p. 109. 

>* Ross, Bigt. of Corea, p. 318 ; Scott, France and Tongkinf/, 
98 (Baron, in Piilkerton, ix. 698, describes it as ash-coloured); 
Pallegoix, i. 246 ; Plutarch, Qutjent. Item. 26 ; KOhler, 257. 

1» Bnuid, Popular Antiimities', 1870, ii. 283. 

X A. B. RIlis, TM-tpeaiing I'enplet, 240 f. 

" Yoruba-meaking PeopUi, 161. 

U Bm-tpeaking People; 160. 



Aragon. Guatemalan widowers dyed themselves yellow.i 
Sophocles wore grey or dark blue clothes in mourning for 
Euripides. Grey was the mourning colour of the Gambreiotai.2 
Simultaneous with change of dress are changes 
of bodily appearance, especially of the coiliure. 
The practice of cutting the hair sliort as a sign of 
mourning is extremely common. On the other 
liand, some peoples allow tlie hair to grow long, as 
tlie ancient Egyptians, the Hindus, the Chinese, 
and the Jews.' 

Mourning as a social state is pre-eminently a 
suspension of social life ; society is avoided, work 
is discontinued, and the mourner generally is under 
a ban. The degrees of mourning depend on the 
degrees of nearness to the dead. The period of 
mourning is frequently synchronous with the state 
of death ; that is to say, it ends when tlie corpse 
is thoroughly decomposed. Throughout early 
thought tliere runs the idea that a person is not 
absolutely dead until every fragment of the viscera 
has disappeared. At the end of the time the state 
of ordinary life is re-entered in the usual way. 

Thus, the Ewe people burn their mourning clothes and put 
on new raiment when mourning ends.-* A widow among the 
Koossas, at the end of her month of mourning, threw away her 
clothes, washed her whole body, and scratched it with stoncs.s 
"The last detail is probably merely an extraordinary method of 
purification. The period of tabu undergone by murderers 
among the Omahas might be ended by the kindred of the victim. 
The formula employed was, ' It is enough. Begone, and walk 
among the crowd. Put on moccasins and wear a good robe.' <» 

The prevalent explanations of mourning dress 
are based on the fear of the ghost anil of the con- 
tagion of death. Frazer has suggested that the 
painting of the body and the wearing of special 
costumes by mourners are attempts to disguise 
themselves so as to escape the notice of the ghost.' 
Westermarck is of opinion that ' the latter custom 
may also have originated in the idea that a 
mourner is more or less polluted for a certain 
period, and that therefore a dress worn by liim 
then, being a seat of contagion, could not be used 
afterwards.'' But such customs originate in un- 
conscious motivation. Of course, concealment 
may be aimed at, unconsciously. But several 
considerations place the theory of disguise out of 
court. Savage pliilosophies seldom hit on correct 
explanations ; being ex post facto, they are out of 
touch with origins. But they do refer to present 
conscious motives, which again may not be the 
underlying primary reason. The motive of dis- 
guise may often be superposed on some origin.al 
unconscious motive, but the following case sliows 
that the opposite may exist. In some of the Cen- 
tral Australian tribes it is said that the object of 
painting the body of a mourner is to ' render him 
or her more conspicuous, and so to allow the spirit 
to see that it is being properly mourned for.'^ 
Again, the prevalent custom of wearing the clothes 
or the bones of the dead is an absolute negation of 
the principle of concealment. On animistic theory 
these appurtenances should attract the ghost. 

Frazer notes that the customs of blackening the 
face and of cutting the hair after a death are ob- 
served not only for friends but for slain foes, and 
suggests that in the latter cllse the explanation of 
their use as being a mark of sorrow cannot apply. 
They may therefore, he adds, be explained as in- 
tended to disguise the slayer from the angry ghost 
of the slain. 1" The practice of blackening the body 
1 Rochholz, Deutscher Glaube und Branch, Berlin, 1867, i. 
198 ; Lane, Mad. Jigypt. ii. 267 ; P. Houche, La Cnte iles 
Etclaveg, Paris, 1886, p. 218 ; Brand, ii. 283 ; Bancroft, ii. 802. 

2Westennann, liiographi Groeci, Branswick, 1846, p. 135; 
CIG ij. 3662. 

3 Herod, ii. 36 ; 8. 0. Bose, The Uindoos as they are, Calcutta, 
1B.SI, p. 264 ; Gray, i. 286 ; Buxtorf, !S^Jnag. Jud., Basel, 1680, 
p. 706. 

4 A. B. Ellis, Bwe-gpeaking Peoples, 100. 

5 Lichtenstein, Travels in Smttheni A frica, 1803-6, !. 269. 
• J. O. Dorsey, in S KBE W (1884), p. ail). 

7 J. G. Frazer, in JAI xv. 73. » Westermarck, ill ii. 646. 

» Spencer-Oillen>, 611. vijAIw.W. 



60 



DRESS 



witli aslies, Boot, and the like is fonnd in America, 
Africa, New Gninea, Samoa, and very generally 
throughout tlie world.' The nreeise reason for 
the choice of this medium is oWure. 

When spiritualism has once l)ecome a part of 
social belief, such views may enter into the com- 
plex of cnrrent motives witliout cancelling the 
deep-seated original motive of the unconscious 
mind. Mourning dress, for example, may take 
on the character of a spiritual armour, as a de- 
fence against the evil spirits who often act as a 
syndicate of death, removing and devouring the 
souls of the living. 

At » Chinese funeral the grave-dijt^erg and coffln-bearcre tie 
their Bhadows to themselvi-8 by tying a cloth round their 
waists.3 A Northern Indian murderer wraps himself up titfhtly. 
The Thompson Indian widow wears breeches of grass to prevent 
attempts at intercourse on the part o( her husband's ghost. ^ 

Similarly the principle of contagion may be 
superposed on the primary meaning of mourning 
costume, 

Maoris who had handled a corpse were tabued, and threw 
away the special rags they had worn, lest they should con- 
taminate others.* It is stated of the Oreenlanders that, ' if 
they have happened to touch a corpse, they immediately cast 
away the clothes they have then on ; and for this reason they 
always put on their old clothes when they go to a burying. In 
this "they agree with the Jews.*' A Navaho who has touched 
A corpse takes off his clothes and bathes.^ Such cases fall 
into Ime with other extensive groups of ceremonial observ- 
ances. For example, at an annual festival the Cherokees flung 
their old clothes into a river, 'supposing then their own im- 
purities to be removed.' A Maori, before entering a sacred 
place, which would tapu him, took ofl his clothes.7 But the 
earliest peoples, like the Australians, actually cover themselves 
with, and otherwise assimilate, the contagion of death. 

On the other hand, de Groot holds that mourn- 
ing costume in China ori^nated in the custom of 
sacrificing to the dead the clothes worn by the 
monrner. In the time of Confucius it was the 
custom for mourners to throw off their clothes 
while the corpse was being dressed.' But this 
view cannot be seriously entertained. 

There are several considerations to be adduced 
by way of leading up to a more probable explana- 
tion. The complex of emotions produced by the 
death of a near relative may be supposed to be in 
the primitive mind composed of awe, soitow, and, 
to some extent, indignation. In later culture the 
chief component is sorrowful affection, and mourn- 
ing costume is regarded as a respectful symbol 
of this feeling. In the next place, the dead and 
the living together form a special society inter- 
mediate between the world of existence and the 
world of nothingness.' Again, the principle of 
adaptation to state has to be taken into aocount. 
This particular social state calls for particular 
solemnization. 

'Mourning customs' (and, In particular, costumes), says 
Frazer, ' are always as far as possible the reverse of those of 
ordinary life. Thus at a Roman funeral the sons of the de- 
ceased walked with their heads covered, the daughters with 
their heads uncovered, thus exactly reversing the ordinary 
usage, which was that women wore coverings on their heads 
while men did not. Plutarch, who notes this, observes that 
similarly in Greece men and women during a period of mourn- 
ing exactly inverted their usual habits of wearing the hair — 
the ordinary practice of men being to cut it short, that of 
women to wear it long.'io The Mpongwes are very fond of 
dress, but when in mourning a woman wears as few clothes as 
]X>ssible and a man none a^ll.'' 

This reversal of habit is better explained on the 
principles we have assumed than on the principle 
of disguise. Death is a violent break of social 
life ; sympathetic adaptation to it necessitates an 

1 Car^-er, Travelt through S. America^ 1781, p. 407; Ban- 
croft, i. 88, 184, 178, 180, 206, 288, 870, ii. 618 : H. II. Johnston, 
TKt River Congo, 1884, p. 426; Chalmers-Gill, 36 f., 149, 260, 
886 ; Turner, Samoa, 308. 

> D« Qroot, i. 94, 210 f. 

• J. Teit, In Jeiup Hxpfd., 1900, p. 331 ff. 

4 Old AVm Zealand, by a I'akeha Maori, 1884, pp. 104-114. 

* H. Kjffde, Descriptirm of Greenland, 174&, p. 197. 
« 1 RBRW (1881), p. 123. ' t'razer, OJSa ill. 74. 



"DeOroot, U. 476«. 



8 Van Gennep, 211. 



" Du Challlo, Kqaaloriat Africa, 1861, p. 9 ; J. G. Wood, 
KaX. Biit. of Man, 1868-70, i. 686. 



equally violent suspension or reversal of ordinary 
costume. Such adaptation coincides with sorrow 
and indignation on the one hand, and with dimi- 
nution or negation of personality on the otlier. A 
number of customs, of which the following is a 
tyjie, confirms this. When a death occurs, Tshi 
women tear their hair and rend their clothes.' 
From this it is but a step to the assumption of torn 
or ragged clothes and a shorn coitl'ure. Sorrow 
and indignation prompt the mourner to tear and 
lacerate both his Dody and his external coverings; 
sympathy with the state so violently induced 
prompts liim to deny or humiliate his personality ; 
this motive is helped by sorrow. Absence of 
colour, as in the hue of black, or apparent absence, 
as in white, and variations of these, as dark blue 
or self-colour in fabrics, are material reflexes of 
this motive of self-negation, which also coincide 
with the symbolism of colour as light and life, and 
of absence of colour as darkness and death. A 

E articular case is the adoption of an uncleanly 
abit. Dirty clothes, dirty skin, and unshaven 
face were the mourning characters of the Romans. 
The custom of blackening the face with ashes has 
perhaps the same meaning. In the primitive camp 
the most obvious medium for dirtying the person 
is, not the earth, but the ashes of the camp-fire, 
which with water form, as does coal-dust in coal- 
countries, a dye as well as a defilement. 

A paraidox similar to one already noted is the 
result of this adaptation to state ; and sorrow, 
and with it an equally praiseworthy intention to 
honour the dead, are the feelings which produce 
it. The dead man is dressed in his best, arrayed 
like Solomon in all his glory ; for the last time 
his personality is augmented to superhumanity, 
while his kin temporarily assimilate themselves 
to his actual state, socially substitute them- 
selves for him, and practically negate and cancel 
their living personality and abrogate their social 
functions. 

8. Nudity and dress.— When clothing is firmly 
established as a permanent social habit, temporary 
nudity is the most violent negation possible of the 
clothed state. Ceremonial nudity is a complex 
problem, but the idea of contrast, of an abnormal 
as contrasted with a normal state, may go far to 
explain many of its forms. At ceremonies of 
fumigation the Malay takes off his sarong.'' Such 
cases are no doubt to be explained in the obvious 
way ; the purificatory influence has more effect 
when the body is stripped of all coverings. But 
other examples of the practice are more obscure. 

In time of drought, Transylvanian girls strip naked when 
performing the ritual for rain.» In India the practice is 
regular.* To make rain, Kabul men go on the roof of a house 
at night, and strip themselves of all clothes. Obscene language 
is interchanged." To induce rain to fall, Ba-Thoiiga women 
strip themselves naked.6 Baronga women, to make rain, strip 
themselves ot their clothes, and put on instead leaf-girdles or 
leaf-petticoats and head-dresses of grass.' At a festival of 
Sarasvati, Bengali students danced naked. A Gujarat mother 
whose child is ill goes to the goddess's temple at night, naked, 
or with only a girdle of nim (J/cfia) or aaopato (^Pulyalthea) 
leaves, i* 

The principle in the above seems to be that a 
violent change in the course of Nature may he 
assisted by a violent change of habit on the part 
of those concerned. It is adaptation to the desired 
contrast by instituting a contrast in the ofliciators. 
The use of obscene language is, like nudity, a break 
with the habits of normal life. The use of leaf- 
girdles is probably no survival of a primitive 
covering, but merely a method of toning down the 

1 A. B. Ellis, Tahi-gpeaking Peoples, 237. ' Skeat, 269. 

' E. Gerard, The hand beyond the Forest, Edin. 1888, ii. 40. 

4 PSQ Hi. 41, 115 ; mm I- 210 ; »"razer> G£ » L 98 f. 

5 T. O. Ilodson, 172. 

« H, A. Junod, in RElh i. (1910) 140. 
' H. A. Juno<i, />«» Itaranga, Neuchatel, 1898, p. 412 ff. 
8 Ward, HiJuioosS, 1817, 1. 72, cf. 1.30 ; J. M. Campbell, in I A 
xxiv. 26S. 



DRESS 



«l 



violence of the extraoriliuary state. Similarly, 
the idea of nakedness is often satisfied by the 
removal of the upper garment only. Ideas of 
fertility and outpouring as connected with leaves 
and ■vvith the genital organs are probahly later. 
The whole subject is illustrated by the following : 
The headman of certaiu New Guinea tribes becomes holy 
before the fishing season. Every evening he strips himself of 
all his decorations, a proceeding not otnerwise allowed, and 
bathes near the location of the dugongs.^ An Eskimo m.ay 
not eat venison and walrus on the same day, unless he strips 
naked, or puts on a reindeer skin that has never been worn in 
hunting the walrus. Otherwise his eating gives pain to the 
souls of the walrus. Similarly, after eating walrus he must 
strip himself before eating seal.^ 

The principle of assimilation to special circtun- 
stances is here conspicuous. Possibly in the New 
Guinea example the later extension of the prin- 
ciple to assimUatiou by contact is involved. 

Dress being, as will be more fully illustrated 
below, not only essentially a social habit, but one 
of the most distinctly social habits that have been 
evolved, the public removal of garments and nudity 
generally come under the regulation of custom and 
law. Dress, like other habits, is a second nature, 
and social inertia may fix it more securely ; hence 
such curiosities of legalism as the pronouncement 
of Zoroa-strian law, that it is a sin to walk with 
only one boot on.' 

The sexual instincts of modesty and attraction 
give life to the idea of dress, and a balance is 
seldom exactly attained between them and legal- 
ism. In modem times the missionary movement 
has practically corrupted many a wild race by 
imposing upon them, as the most essential feature 
of Christian profession, the regard for clothing 
developed in a cold climate among peoples in- 
clined to prudery and ascetic ideals ; hence a 
factitious sentiment of hypocritical decency. In 
other races, legalism has evolved similar conditions. 

In Uganda it is a capital offence to strip naked.' In most 
European countries 'exposure of the person' is a criminal 
offence. The Roman Catholic Church taught, and still teaches 
in convent schools, that it is wrong to expose the body even 
to one's own eyes.s ' Moslem modesty was carried to great 
lengtlM, insufficient clothing being forbidden. . . . The Sunna 
prescribes that a man shall not uncover himself even to him- 
self, and shall not wash naked— from fear of Ood, and of spirits ; 
Job did so, and atoned for it heavily. When in Arab antiquity 
grown-up persons showed themselves naked, it was only under 
extraordinary circumstances and to attain unusual ends.' 6 
These latter have been illustrated above. 

Such excess of the idea of decency renders still 
more powerful lx)th the magical ana the supersti- 
tious use of nudity and also its sexual appeal. In 
the sphere of art it may be the case that peoples 
accustomed to nakedness, like the Greeks, employ 
it as a regular subject for artistic treatment, but 
it does not necessarily follow that it is better 
understood than among peoples not so accustomed. 
It lacks the force of contrast. Similarly in the 
sexual sphere, both natural modesty ancl natural 
expansion may be enhanced by the artificial limita- 
tions of decency. In this respect dress plays an 
important part in social biology. By way of show- 
ing the contrast, the African and the European 
conditions may be sketched. 

Of the Wa-taveita, Johnston remarks : ' Both sexes have little 
notion or conception of decency, the men especially seeniirig 
to be unconscious of any impropriety in exposing themselves. 
What clothing they have is worn either as an adornment or 
lor wannth at night and early morning.' Of the Wa-chaga 
he observes ; ' With them indecency does not exist, for they 
make no effort to be decent, but walk about as Nature made 
them, except when it is chilly, or if they wish to look unusually 
smart, in which cases they throw cloth or skins around their 
shoulders. '7 

Among Englishmen, a race very observant of the decencies 
of civilization, llerrick is fairiy typical. His attitude to sexual 
dress is thus des cribed by Havelock Ellis: 'The fascination of 

« R. E. Guise, in JAI xxviii. (1899) 218. 
'F. Boas, Sixth Report on N.W. Triba of Canada, 1888, 
p. 684. / . . 

• ' Pahlavi Texts,' i.. In SBE v. 287. < Ratiel, 1. 94. 
' U. Ellis, iv. 32, quoting authorities. 

• WeUbausen, BaU^, 173, 195. 7 JAI xv. (1886) 9, 11. 



clothes in the lover's eyes is, no doubt, a complex phenomenon, 
but in part it rests on the aptitudes of a woman's garments to 
express vaguel;y a dynamic symbolism which must always 
remain indefinite and elusive, and on that account always 
possess fascination. No one has so acutely described this 
symbolism as Herrick, often an admirable psychologist in 
matters of sexual attractiveness. Especially instructive in this 
respect are his poems, " Delight in Disorder," " Upon Julia's 
Clothes," and notably " Julia's Petticoat." " A sweet disorder 
in the dress," he tells us, " kindles in clothes a wantonness " ; 
it is not on the garment itself, but on the character of its 
movement that he insists ; on the " erring laoe," the " winning 
wave" of the "tempestuous petticoat."'^ Herrick, of course, 
is dealing with the dynamic quality of dress, but its static 
meaning is hardly less explicit in the English and European 
mind. 

The significance of dress as an expression of the 
body will be referred to below in the sexual con- 
nexion. Meanwhile the general idea thus illus- 
trated may be regarded as the norm in modern 
civilization. Its opposite or complementary is the 
increased value given to legitimate nudity. A 
movement is even proceeding, particularly in Ger- 
many, for an extension of this individual privilege 
Into a restricted and occasional social habit — the 
so-called Nacktheit movement. 

Such tendencies coincide with the twofold atti- 
tude towards the human organism which dress has 
emphasized — regard for the body in itself and re- 
gard for its artificial extension. Periodic social 
phenomena accentuate one or the other aspect. 
The Spartan practice of nudity in athletics was 
based on a reasoned theory of health from expo- 
sure and of purity from knowledge. The Papuans 
have been said to ' glory in tlieir nudeness, and con- 
sider clothing fit only for women.''' Temporary 
nudity, when in obedience to natural impulse, 
should be regarded not as a reversion,' still less 
as a survival of a m-imitive state, but as a rhyth- 
mical movement. The point is well illustrated by 
the use of nudity as a love-charm.* 

p. Dress and social grade.— Dress is the most 
distinctive expression in a material form of the 
various grades of social life. The biological period 
thus becomes a social period of existence, and the 
individual is merged in a functional section of the 
community. The assumption of a grade-dress is, 
whether explicitly or implicitly, ipso facto a social 
rite — in Van Gennep's term, a rite of aggregation.* 

(1) Childhood.— Tha swaddling-clothes of infants 
have their analogue in the earliest cultures, in 
the form of various modifications of the papoose- 
system. In this the reasons of protection and 
cleanliness are obvious. After earliest infancy 
the children of primitive peoples are quite naked 
in the warmer climates. Clothing proper is first 
assumed either at puberty or at the age of six or 
seven. Probably the former date represents an 
earlier stratum of fashion. Children, whether first 
clothed at the earlier age or not, assume adult cos- 
tume at puberty. 

In the New Hebrides, girls and boys are naked till five years of 
age.fi Among the Veddaa dress is assumed at the age of six or 
seven.' Children of well-to-do Hindus are naked till the third 
year, those of the poor till about six or seven. 8 Running about 
uncovered, say the Zoroastrian texts, is no sin, up to the age, of 
15 : and it is no sin to be without the sacred girdle till that age.o 

In cold climates, where the constant purpose of 
dress is protection, differences of juvenile and adult 
costume may be reduced. For example, Samoyed 
children ' are dressed precisely as tlieir parents, 
sex for sex.''" 

There is little to notice in the matter of coiffure 
in the child-stage. Cases like the following are 
exceptional : 

Young Naga children have the hair shaved. When a girl i« 
of marriageaule age it is allowed to grow long." 

' H. Ellis, v. 46 f. 

' Westermarck, Human Uarriage^, 1894, p. 118. 

^ As Schurtz argues, Philos. tier Tracht, Stuttgart, 1891, p. 48. 



* Floss, Das Weib, Leipzig, 1885, 1. 362, 
8 B. T. Somcrville, in JAI xxiii. (1893) 7. 



' 0. O. and B. Z. Seligmann, 90 f. 
» ■ Pahlari Texts,' 1., in SBE v. 287. 
1° Monteflore, in JAI xziv. 404. 



» Van Gennep, 77. 
Monier-Williams, 397 
" T. 0. Hodson, 28. 



DBBSS 



(2) Maiurity. — Examples of the rii/Ual aasiuup- 
tion of the adult garb may be conlined to a few 
typos. 

In (lorids (HelaoMi*) the male ' wrapper ' is assumed with 
■oiue cerciuony at the wot of six or seven. In Santa Cruz the 
■dull uuUe dress is ftuine. Its assumption is celebrated by a 
leut and pig-killint^f. Big boys whose parents are too poor to 

gre a feast may be seen going about naked. The custoDl in 
« New Hebritles is the same, and after assumption the boy 
beffins to lie reserved towards his mother and sisters.^ The 
Koita boy of British New Guinea receives his siAt, loin-cloth, 
from hia maternal uncle, raimu, to whom in return ho owes 
certain services, such as a share of any fish or animal be kills. 
The raimu makes the cloth, and puts it on the boy in the pre- 
sence of the relatives on both sides of the family, who then eat 
toyelher.s A similar ceremony of investiture at puberty is 
practised by the Koro tribes.^ The last initiation of a New 
Hebrides boy is the investing; of the belt. This is a broad 
band of nutmeg bark about six inches wide, encircling the 
waist twice and confined by a small strip of plaited grass. * An 
underneath strip of grass cloth or calico supports the very 
scanty clothing of the natives. The belt is therefore an orna- 
ment, corresponding to the to<^a virilii, but usually not attAined 
itrom inability to provide pigs for the feast) until a man is 
wenty or older.* The old Ja;^anese made a ceremony for the 
' breeching ' of boys and the ' girdling ' of girls.^ 

The Hindu upanayana is the Investiture with the sacred 
thread, which renders a man 'twice-born,' and before whicli 
ho is not, in religion, a ' person,* not, as it were, individualized, 
not even named. The thread is of three slender cotton filaments, 
white, and tied in a sacred knot, brahma-grmUhi, each of the 
three consisting? of three finer filaments. It is consecrated by 
inantras, and holy water is sprinkled upon it. The wearer 
never parts with it. As the Catholic priest changes his vest- 
ments, so the Brahman alters the position of the thread. When 
he worships the gods he puts it over his left and under his right 
shoulder ; when he worships ancestors, the position is reversed ; 
when he worships saints, it is worn like a necklace." The earli- 
est mention of tliis sacred cord, yajilopavUa, of the Brahman, 
is perhaps in the Upanisads.' Worn over tlie left shoulder, its 
position is altered according to the particular act in which the 
wearer is engaged. This yajtiopaxAta is of one skein when put 
on the youth : when he is married it must have three, and may 
have five skeins. An imitation cord is put on first, then taken 
off and the real one placed in position. Then the father covers 
his own head and tiiat of his son under one cloth and whisijers 
the Gayatri prayer. A new cord is put on every year at the 
festival in Srcivaxia. If one touches a Pariah, the cord must 
be replaced. The Sannyasi, having entered the fourth or last 
stage of the Brahman's life, does not wear the yajflOpaviUifi 
Hanu says that the first birth of a Hindu is ' from his natural 
mother, the second happens on the tying of the girdle of 
Uuiija grass, and the third on the initiation to the perform- 
ance of a arauta sacrifice.' 8 'Birth' in such contexte as the 
assumption of the adult state is an almost universal metaphor. 
In many well-known instances the metaphor itself has been 
translated into ritual, as being a convenient and impressive 
mode of aflirining the change. But neither the metaphor nor 
the idea of re-birth is the ultimate reason of initiation cere- 
monies. 

The sacred thread-girdle, the kosti, worn by every member, 
male and female, of the Zoroastrian faith, after the age of 16, 
is a badge of the faithful, a girdle uniting him or her to 
Ormazd and his fellows. Bread and water were to be refused 
to all who <lid not wear it. It must be made not of silk, but 
of goat or camel hair ; of 72 interwoven filaments ; and it should 
'three times circumvent the waist.' The other garment 
necessary to salvation was the sudara, or sacred shirt, a muslin 
tunic with short sleeves, worn high, not lower than the hips. 
At its ' opening in front ' is a pocket, ' the pocket for good 
deeds.' When putting it on the faithful looks at the pocket, 
askuig himself whether it is full. Both shirt and girdle are 
to be kept on during the night, ' for thev are more protecting 
for tlie body, and good for the soul.' To wear the girdle is to 
gird one's loins 'with the Religion.' 10 

The distinctive garb of the Athenian ephebos was the chlamys. 
It was ceremonially assumed. The lloman boy at sixteen laid 
aside the bulla and the toga prwUxta, and assumed the white 
to^ of manhood, toga pura or virilis. The page in medieval 
chivalry was made a squire at fourteen. At twenty-one 
knighthood followed, and new white robes were ceremonially 
assumed, with a satin vest and a leather collar, over the suit of 
mail. The Naga kilt is not assumed till puberty." At puberty 
Uie Chaco girl is decorated, and for the first time wears the 
longer skirt of the wonien.12 

There are, of course, exceptions to the rule that 
the assuiuption of social dress is a rite. Thus the 
Mekeo tribes have no ceremony in connexion with 
the assumption of the male band or the female 

J Oodrington, 231 H. SSeligniann, 67t., 73. » 76 250 

• B. T. Somerville, in JAl xxiii. (IS9:i) li. 

; p- I'foundea, tft. xil. 224. 6 MonW-WUlianw, 860f., 879. 

' ' Unamshads,' in SBE i. 285. •"■ i •"•'■ 

,» fS*"!'"*' '"-SO- « Manu, ii. 169. 

fli V ^*^"*'' '■ 2' 'n *** •''• 1»S, 72 ; ' Pahlavi Texts,' i.. in 
" T. a Uodaoa, M. u Qmbb, 177. 



petticoat.| Elsewhere the rite involves such usual 
complications as the following. Before a boy is 
circumcised, the Masai father puts on a special 
dress, and lives secluded in a special hut. On his 
return he drinks wine and is called ' fatlier of So- 
and-so.' Then the operation takes place.' The 
designation of the father points to the fact, 
expressed by the dress, that fatherhood, as else- 
where, is a special social grade. 

In many examples there is a distinctive dress 
worn during the marginal stage of initiation, and 
discarded at the end for the adult dress proper. 

Thus, during the initiation of a Kamilaroi youth he was 
invested with a kilt of wallaby skin, suspended in front by a 
girdle. It is described as a 'badge.'' The West African boy 
at initiation is naked and smeared with clay. He may wear a 
cap of bark, hiding his face. Often he pretends at the conclusion 
of the sequestration to have forgotten everything and to know 
nothing.** At initiation A-kamba girls wear goat-skins.^ The 
Dini girl at puberty wore 'a sort of bead-dress combining in 
itself the purposes of a veil, a bonnet, and a mantlet. It was 
made of tanned skin, its forepart was shaped like a long fringe, 
completely hiding from view the face and breasts; then it 
formed on the head a close-fitting cap or bonnet, and finally 
fell in a broad band almost to the heels. This head-dress was 
made and publicly placed on her head by a paternal aunl^, who 
received at once some present from the girl's father. When, 
three or four years later, the period of sequestration ceased, 
only this same aunt had the right to take off her niece's 
ceremonial head-dress. Furthermore, the girl's fingers, wrists, 
and legs at the ankles and immediately below the knees were 
encircled with ornamental rings and bracelets of sinew intended 
as a protection against the lualign infiuences slie was supposed 
to be possessed with. '6 

Entrance into the grade of social puberty is 
generally equivalent to nubility. 

Among the Tshi-jieople a girl announces her eligibility for 
marriage by dressmg up and wearing ornaments. She is 
escorted through the streets, under an umbrella.' Infant 
betrothal complicates this. In the Northern New Hebrides a 
girl betrothed in childhood wears nothing except on great 
occasions. When growing up she is clothed, but in the house 
wears only the para, or fringe. In the New Hebrides generally 
clothing and tatuing are a step towards the marriage of a girl.8 
The Naga youth, however, is nude until marriage. Only then 
does he assume tlie loin-cloth.9 

Frequently a special dress or modification of the 
adult dress marks a distinction between maturity 
and nubility. 

Among tlie Koita of New Guinea tatuing is confined to the 
women. When a girl is engaged, the region between the navel 
and the neck, hitherto untouched, is tatued. Just before 
marriage the V-shaped gado is tatued between the breagts.<<> 

The passage from childhood to youth, and from 
youth to nubility, is often marked by a change in 
the mode of wearing the hair. 

As an example, among Naga women the coiffure is a mark 
of status." When children, Reharuna girls have their heads 
shaved, except for the front and a tuft on the crown ; at 
puberty, the hair is allowed to grow, and is worn in chignon- 
form ; when married, they divide the hair into two large plait« 
hanging down the back ; when they .become mothers, they wear 
these plaits over the breast. 

(3) Sexual dress. — The assumption of dress to 
initiate the social grade of matunty is the assump- 
tion of a social sexual diflerentiation. The most 
distinctive social division is the permanent division 
of sex. Up to puberty this is more or less ignored, 
and the neutral quality of the previous stage is 
often indicated by the neutral connotation of the 
term 'child,' and by a neutral fashion of child- 
dress. It is natural that the growth and maturity 
of the primary sexual characters sliould give these 
a prominent place in the principles of the dis- 
tinguishing garb, and that they should, as it were, 
mould the dress into adaptive forms. The idea of 
social sexuality is well brought out in the stories of 
1 Seligniann, 491. » Hollis, 294 f . 

3 R. H. Mathews, in JAl xxiv. 421. 

4 Dapper, Description de VAJrique, Amsterdam, 1670, p. 288 f. ; 
M. H. Kingsley, Travete in West Africa, 1897, p. 631; G. Dale, 
in J.4/ XXV. (1896)189. 

» C. W. Hobley, Ethnology of A-Kamba, p. 70. 

6 A. G. Morioe, in Proc. Canad. Jmt. (Toronto, 1888-1889) 
Tii. 162 f. 

7 A. B. Ellis, Tthi-speaking Peoples, 236. 

8 Codrington, 241, 283. 

» Woodthorpe, in JAl xi. (1S82) 209. '» .Seligmann, 73, 7a 
"T. C. Ilodaon, 77; K Uoulti, MerrHkech, Paris, 1905, 
p. 8141. 



DBESS 



children failing to distinguish girls from boy» when 
nude. The adaptation of the distinctive feminine 
and masculine garments, skirt and trousers, to the 
activity of the respective sexes has alreatly been 
referred to. The main idea of dress a.s a material 
expression in a social form of the psychical rellexes 
from i)ersonality, and, in this case, sexuality, has 
here particular prominence. To regard the affir- 
mation, by means of dress, of primary sexual 
characters as intended to attract the attention of 
the other sex by adorning them is a superficial 
view. .Such intention is secondary, though, of 
course, it has an important social bearing. Goetlie's 
remark is in point for the consideration of dress as an 
alljnnation of personality: 'We exclaim, "What 
a beautiful little foot ! " when we have merely seen 
a pretty slioe ; we admire the lovely waist, when 
nothing has met our eyes but an elegant girdle.' 

Special cases of an intensification of sexual 
characters may be illustrated by the following : 

A t>'pe of female beauty in the Middle Ages represents forms 
clothed ill broad flowing sliirts, and with the characteristic 
shape of prejirnancy. ' It is the maternal function, . . . which 
niarlts the whole type.'i The type possibly survived ia 'that 
class of garments which involved ao iumiensc amount of ex- 
pansion below the waist, and secured such exmnsion by the 
use of whalebone hoops and similar devices. The Elizabethan 
farthiogale was such a garment. This was originally a Spajiish 
invention, as indicated by tiie name (from verdttgardo, 'provided 
with hoops') and readied England through France. We find 
the fashion at its most extreme point in the fashionable dress 
of Spain in the seventeenth century, such as it has been im- 
mortalized by Velas<iuez. Iji England, hoops died out during 
the reign of George in., but were revive^!, for a time, half a 
century later, in the Victorian crinoline.* 2 it is curious, but 
not exceptional to the view here expressed — it is, in fact, cor- 
robomtivc of it, because of the necessity of emphasizing feminine 
characters which is characteristic of the class — that this, 
like meet other feminine fashions in dress, was invented by 
courtesans. The crinoline or farthingale is the culmination of 
the distinctive feminine garment, the skirt, as a protection and 
aflirmation of the pelvic character. 

Augmentation of the mammary character is similar. In 
medieval Europe an exception is found in a tendency to the 
use of compressmg garments. The tightening of the waist girth 
is a remarkable GKlaptation, which emjihasizes at one and the 
Mune time the feminine characters of expansion both of the 
breasts and of the abdominal and gluteal regions. 'Not only 
does the corset render the breasts more prominent ; it has the 
further effect of disjilacing the breatliing activity of the lungs 
in an upward direction, the advantage from the point of sexual 
allurement thus gained t>eing that additional attention is drawn 
to the bosom from tlie respiratory movement thus imparted 
to it.'3 The development of the corset in modern Euroi>e has 
been traced from tlie bands, or /(Utcioi, of Greek and Italian 
women. The tight bodices of the Middle Ages were replaced in 
the 17th and Ibtli centuries by whalebone liodices. The modern 
corset is a combination of the fascia and the girdle.* 

In the sphere of ma.sculine dress and the affir- 
mation by its means of sexual characters, it is 
sufficient to note two mediaival fashions : 

The long-hose which superseded the barb.irian trews and pre- 
ceded the modem trousers eniphasized tnost effectively the 
male attribute and social quality of energy and activity as 
represented by the lower limlis, the organs of locomotion. The 
bragvettt, or codpie<:c, of the 1 5th and 16th centuries is an 
example of a protective article of dress, originally used in war, 
which became an article *of fashionable apparel, often made of 
silk and adorned with ribljons, even with gold and jewels. '^ 
Its history supplies a modem repetition of the savage phallo. 
crypt, and throws light on the evolution of the ideas of dress. 

With regard to secondary sexual charfftters, 
sexual dress, itself an artificial secondary sexual 
character, carries on various adaptations. 'The 
man must Ije strong, vigorous, energetic, hairy, 
even rough . . . the woman must be smooth, 
Tonndcrl, and gentle.' ' These characters are echoed 
in the greater relative coarseness and strength of 
fabric of masculine dress, and the softness and 
flimsiness of feminine. ' A somewhat greater 
darkness of women is a secondary . . . sexual 
character;' in this connexion a harmony is un- 
consciously aimed at ; tlie tendency is for men to 

1 Marholm, quoted by II. Ellis, iv. 109. 

a H. Ellis, i.e. 3 Jb. 172. 

* I,«oty, Lt Cartel d travers let &m», Paris, 18'J3, quoted by 
H. Ellis, iv. 172 f. 

5 11. Ellis, iv. 169 ; I. Uloch, Beitriige zur AeliologU ier 
Ptydu/palhia SexwUu, Dresden, 1902, i. 1£9. 

• U. Ellis, ir. 208. T it. 



wear darker, and women lighter clothes. Women 
tend to ' cultivate pallor of the face, to use powder,' 
and 'to emphasize the white underlinen.'' The 
attraction of sexual disparity, so important in 
sexual selection, reaches its culmination in the 
matter of clothing, and 

' it has constantly happened that men have even called in the 
aid of religion to enforce a distinction which seemed to thera so 
urgent. One of the greatest of sex allurements would be lost 
and the extreme importance of clothes would disapjiear at once 
if the two sexes were to dress alike ; such identity of dress has, 
however, never come about among any people.' 2 

The assumption of sexual dress at maturity 
raises tlie (question of the original meaning of 
special covenngs for the primary sexual characters. 
Their probable origin in an impulse towards pro- 
tection against tlie natural environment has been 
suggestetH When dress becomes more than a mere 
appendage and produces the reaction of an affirma- 
tion of personality, its meaning inevitably be- 
comes riclier. The decorative impulse and sexual 
allurement take their place in the complex. But 
the chief, and the distinctively social, factor is 
always that of affirming by a secondary and arti- 
ficial integument the particular physiological stage 
which society transforms into a human grade of 
communal life. This is well illustrated oy such 
facts as the frequent absence of the skirt, for 
example, until marriage, and, more significantly, 
until pregnancy or motherhood. In other cases, 
as in the frequent confinement of sexual covering 
to the mammary region, the principle is still 
logically followed. Tlius, among many negro 
peoples, as the natives of Loango, women cover 
the breasts especially.^ Naga women cover the 
breasts only. I'hey say it is absurd to cover those 
parts of the body which every one has been able 
to see from their birth, but that it is difl'erent with 
the breasts, which a[ipear later.* 

The evolution of sexual dress involves some side- 
issues of thought and custom which are not without 
significance. 

The harmony between the ideas of sexual dress 
and its temporary disuse for natural functions is 
brought out in many customs and aspects of 
thought. The following is an instance : 

The Mekco tribes of New Guinea have folk-tales of which 
the motive is that a man surprising a girl without her 
petticoat has the right to marry her. After any marriage it is 
still the custom for the husband to fasten ceremonially the 
bride's petticoat.^ The ceremonial loosing of the virgin zone 
embodies similar ideas. 

Savage folklore is full of stories connected with 
disparity of sexual dress. Dill'erence of custom in 
different peoples leads to comment when coinci- 
dences occur. The Dinka call the Bongo, Mittoo, 
and Niam-Niam ' women ' because the men wear 
an apron, while tlie women wear no clothes what- 
ever, getting, however, daily a supple bough for 
a girdle." Sexual disparity, natiual and artificial, 
has often led to sjieculation. 

Repudiating the sexual element, Clement of Alexandria 
argued that, the object of dress being merely to cover the body 
and protect it from cold, there is no reason why men's dress 
should differ from wonien's.7 The Nagas of Manipur say that 
originally men and women wore identical clothes. The flrst 
human beings were seven men and seven women. * liy way of 
making a distinction the man made his hair into a knot or born 
in front ; the woman behind. The woman also lengthened her 
waist-cloth, while the man shortened his.' As a fact the dhoti, 
loin-cloth, is still the same for both sexes though worn in 
different way8.8 The waist-cloth differentiates in evolution 
very simply into either dhoti or skirt, both being fastened in 
the same way, and dilTering only in length. i* It is probably a 
similar accident of national fashion that makes the 'longevity 
garment' of the Chinese identical tor both sexes. lo 

Spinning, weaving, dress-making, and connected 
arts have been the work of women until modem 

1 H, Ellis, I.e., quoting Kistemaecker. 

2 lb. 209. On the jihenomenon of interchange of sexual dress, 
see below. 

'■> I'echuel-Loesche, in ZE, 1878, p. 27. 
■• Dalton, in J AHBe xli. 84. » Seligmann, 863. 

6 Schweinfurth, i. 162. ' Paed. iL 11. 

8 T. C. Ilodson, 16. » lb. 27. 

10 De Oroot, L 63. 



84 



DBBSS 



times. Before the ri»e of organized industry, every 
family was Belf-suflicing in Uie production of 
clothes for its members. Washing and repairing 
have been also women's work, equally with cook- 
ery. In barbarism, as among the Chaco Indians, 
all the making of clothes is done by the women. 
The men's large and cumbersome blankets each 
take four months to weave.' 

In the lowest stages each adult prepared and 
looked after his or her attire. As soon as manu- 
facture be^fan with bark-cloth, the preparation of 
the material devolved upon women, like other 
sedentary and domestic arts ; but, since the style 
of the dress depended not upon measurement and 
cut, but upon folds and draping, women were not 
actually the makers of dress. In the ancient 
civilizations the slave-system of industry was 
applied in two directions. Skilled male artists 
were employed irregularly by the luxurious ; while 
the regular method of domestic manufacture came 
to include dress-making and tailoring. Among 
the ancient Greeks and Italians the making of 
clothes was carried on in the house by the female 
slaves under the superintendence of the lady of 
the house. This system gradually gave way to 
external production, though female attire still 
retained ite claims upon domestic art up to modern 
times. 

In modem civilization the broad distinction of 
sexual dress has reasserted itself in the sphere of 
occupation. The dress of men is prepared oy men, 
that of women by women. Special knowledge 
rendered this inevitable, as soon as cut and sha]ie 
superseded draping in both female and male attire. 
But, as in other arts, the male sex is the more 
creative, and the luxurious women of modern 
society are largely catered for by male dress- 
makers. 

In the majority of modern nations the care and 
repair of the clothes of the family is part of the 
domestic work of women. The washing of clothes 
is usually women's work. Yet in Abyssinia it is 
the man who washes the clothes of both sexes, and 
' in this function the women cannot help him.' ' In 
the sphere of industry Chinese men provide another 
exception. 

(i) Wedding garments. — The sexual dress is at 
marriage intensified by the principle of affirmation, 
not of sexuality, but of personality. It is an 
occasion of expansion, of augmentation ; as the 
social expression of the crisis of love (the culmina- 
tion of human energy and well-being), it is precisely 
adapted. Often, for example, the pair assume 
super-humanity, and are treated as royal persons. 
A speciaV and distinctive dress for the bride is a 
widely spread fashion. As a rule, the bride herself 
is supposed to make the dress. With marriage, 
housekeeping begins, and, as in Norway, Scotland, 
India, and elsewhere, the bride supplies the house- 
hold linen, often including the personal linen of the 
husband. The variety of wedding dress is endless. 
Frequently each famuy supplies the other. 

In North India the bride's dress is yellow, or red — colours 
which 'repel demons.' The Majhwar pair wear white, but after 
the anointing nut on coloured clothes.s 

EngliBh brides wear a white dress. So did Hebrew brides. 
Old Enslisb folklore directed that a bride must wear 'Some- 
thing old, something new, something borrowed, something 
blue.'* The Hindu bridegroom supplies the cloth for the 
wadding robes o( the bride. The tact is (see below) that there 
U among the Hiiidus, not merely a dowry, but an mterchange 
of gifta ; furniture and clothes being the principal component*. 
When preMnted, the clothes are put on : this forms a pre- 
liminary mkrri«a»oereinony.o The gorgeous flowered embroid- 
ery, jphviki^, of the Jilts is prominent in their wedding dre^s. 

I Ombb, 69. 

» Bruce, TravtU to diacaver the Sonne of the Nile, Edinburgh, 
1806, iv. 474. 

-IP™"''*' *"' '«• (l***) 126 f.; Smith, DB ii. 2S1 ; Crooke, 
J'iPii. 2(jlt., TCui. 4M. 
« Crooke, FL Ix. 127 f. i Padfleld, 116. 



Magnificence, generally, is the characteristic of 
wedding garments throughout the world ; white is 
frequent, as an expression of virginity. lied is 
often used, as an uncon.scious adaptation to the 
circninstances of expansion. 

Special garments or 8peciali7.ed forms of gar- 
ments are less common than ' best clothes ' and 
ornament. 

The Korean bridegroom elect, often betrothed at the age of 
five, wears a red jaclcet a8 a mark of engagement! On the day 
before marriage the lionian bride put otf the toga proBtexta, 
which was depoflited before the Lares, and put on the tuniai 
recta or regiUa. This was woven in one piece in the old- 
fashioned way. It was fastened with a woollen girdle tied in 
the knot of Hercules, nodtur IlerciUeus.^ In European folklore 
an analogue is to be found in the trtie lovers' knot, the idea 
being a maffical and later a symbolical knitting together of the 
wedded pur. The hair of the bride was arranged in six locks, 
and was ceremonially parted with the ojtlibaris hajsla. She 
wore a wreath of flowers, gathered by her own hands.3 

Some cases of investiture follow. 

On the wedding night the bride of the Koita people is de- 
corated. Coco-nut oil is put on her thighs. .She wear? a new 
petticoat. Eed lines are painted on her face, and her armlets 
are painted. Her hair is comtied and anointed with oil, and in 
her locks are scarlet hibiscus flowers. The yroom wears a head- 
dress of cassowary feathers ; his face is painted with red and 
yellow streaks, and his ears are decorated with dried tails of 
pigs.^ The Hindu at marriage is invested by the bride's parents 
with the two additional skeins necessary to make the full com- 
plement of the yajflCtpavita, the sacred thread, of the married 
man. 5 The Javanese bridegroom is dressed in the garments of 
a chief. The idea is 'to represent him as of exalted rank.' ** The 
Malays term the bridegroom ra^'a«aAart, the * one-day king.' 7 
The dressing up of both bride and groom and all parties present, 
for the bridal procession of the Miuangkabauers, is very remark- 
able. 

The bridal veil, originally concealing the face, 
occurs in China, Korea, Manchuria, Burma, Persia, 
Russia, Bulgaria, and in various modified forms 
throughout European and the majority of great 
civilizations, ancient and modern. In ancient 
Greece the bride wore a long veil and a garland. 
"The Druse bride wears a long red veil, which her 
husband removes in the bridal chamber. An 
Egyptian veil, boorlco, conceals all the face except 
the eyes, and reaches to the feet. It is of black 
silk for married and white for unmarried women." 
Various considerations suggest that the veil is in 
origin rather an affirmation of the face, as a human 
and particularly a sexual glory, than a conceal- 
ment, though the emphasizing of maidenly modesty 
comes in as a secondary and still more prominent 
factor. The veil also serves as an expression of 
the head and the hair. These are also augmented 
by various decorations. 

The wedding dress often coincides with, or is 
equivalent to, the grade-dress of the married. 

The Btokt as a badge of lawful wedlock was the distinctive 
garment of ancient Roman wives.'* It was an ample outer tunic 
m design, and possibly is to be identified with the bridal tuniai 
recta. Among the Ilereros, after the wedding meal, the bri<le's 
mother puts upon the bride the cap and the dress of married 
women.i" The * big garment,' ear-rings, and the iron necklace 
distinguish Masai married women from girls.ii 

Further social stages are marked by distinctive 
dress, such as pregnancy, motherhood, and, more 
rareVy, fatherhood. 

As soon as aWa-taveita bride becomes pregnant, ' she is dressed 
with much display of beads, and over her eyes a deep fringe of 
tiny iron chains is hung, which bides her and also prevents her 
from seeing clearly.' An old woman attend.s her, ' to screen her 
from all excitement and danger until the expected event has 
taken place.' 1^ Among Cameroon tribes is found the custom of 

1 Saunderson, in JAI xxiv. 305. 

a Whittuck, in Smith's Diet, of Or. otid Rom. Ant.*, 1800, «.r. 
* Matrimonium.' 
a Ih. « Seligmann, 78. » Padfleld, 123. 

6 Veth, Joi'O, 1876, 1. 632-5. 

7 O. A. Wilken, in Byd. tot ie Tool-, Land-, en VoUcenhinde 
Sederl.-lniii, xxiviii. (1889) 424. 

e Doolittle, 1. 79 ; Orilfls, 249 ; Anderson, Mandalay to Motnien, 
1876, p. 141 ; FL i. 489 : Sinolair-Brophy, Bulgaria. 1869, p. 73 ; 
Ralston, Songg of the Rmsian People, 1872, p. 280 ; Chasseaud, 
The Drueee, 1865, p. 166 ; Lane, i. 62. 

» Smith's Did. ofGr. and Rom. ArU.* t.v. 

10 J. Irle, Die Herero, Outersloh, 1906, p. 106 f. " Holiia, 282. 

13 H. II. Johnston, in JAI xr. (1886) 8 f. ; New, EaeUm Afriea, 
1874, p. 360 f. 



DRESS 



6S 



girls remaining naked until the birth of the Srst child 1 (see 
above). The bride in South Slavonia used to wear a veil until 
the birth of the Brst child. '■! When the birth of twins talies 
place, the Ilerero parents are immediately undressed, previously 
to being specially attired. The detail shows the importance of 
immediate assimilation to the new state. 

After childbirth the mother passes througli a 
stage of recover,^-, of isolation, with her babe, often 
expressed by a costiiuie. At its end she assumes 
the costume of normal life which has been tem- 
porarily suspended, or a special costume of her new 
grade of maternity. 

(5) Secondary social grades. — The distinction of 
dress is carried into all divisions of society that are 
secondary to the biological. In India the various 
castes wear clothes ditt'ering both in colour apd in 
cut.' In ancient times the law was that the Sadra 
should use the cast-off garments, shoes, sitting- 
mats, and umbrellas of the higher castes.* All 
Brahmans, as all members of each caste, dress 
alike, except as regards the quality of material.' 
The turban in India, borrowed from the Musal- 
mans, is folded ditl'erently according to caste.' 

The chief epochs in military uniform are marked 
by metal-armour, which, when rendered obsolete 
by fire-arms, gave place to the other component, 
splendour or gaudiness ; and lastly, in recent years, 
by adaptation, for concealment, to the colour of 
the country.' Amongst the Nahuas the standing 
of warriors was marked by distinctive costumes. 
The sole test for promotion was the capture of so 
many prisoners. ' A secondary motive of splendour 
in uniform is illustrated bjr the grotesque costumes 
often worn in barbarism, in order to strike terror 
into the enemy. The Nagas wear tails of liair, 
which they wag in defiance of the foe. The hair 
of the head is long and flowing, and is supposed 
to be useful in distracting tlie aim.' 

The investiture of a knight in the period of 
chivalry was practically a sacrament, and the arms 
were delivered to him by the priest.'" Even in 
the mimic warfare of the tournament, the armour 
was placed in a monastery before tlie jousting 
began." 

The so-called secret societies of the lower cul- 
tures have their closest parallel in the masonic 
institutions. MeduEval gilds and similar corpora- 
tions, together with the modern club, are, apart from 
special purooses, examples of the free phty of the 
social im{>ulse. At the initiation to the Duk-Duk 
secret society of New Britain the novice receives a 
ceremonial dress ; this terminates the iirocess." 

Throughout barbarian and civilized history pro- 
fessions and offices of every kind have followed the 
role of a distinctive costume. Various factors in 
social evolution tend to reduce these differences in 
Western civilization by an increasing use of mufti 
on official occasions, but tlie inertia of such pro- 
fessions as tlie legal resists tliis. In the East, on 
the other hand, European dress invades the ancient 
culture, but the assimilation is still problematic. 
To the Mandarin, for instance, his dress is a 
second nature. 

(6) The dress of sanciiti/.— One of the longest 
and most varied chapters in the hi-story of dress is 
that dealing with the garb of permanent i-acred 
grades, priestly, royal, and the like, and of tem- 

' Hatter, Nord-Uinterland von Kamerun, Brunswick, 190^ 
p. 421. ' 

' i\ 8. Krauss, SUte u. Branch der Sudalaven, Vienna, 1886, 
p. 460. 

» Dubois, 19. * SBE ii. (1807) 233. 

5 Dubois. X,n. 8 Monier.Williauis, 396. 

' The principle seems to have been anticipated at various 
ttmes by the adoption of green uniforms for operations in forest 
countries. 

« Payne, 11. 481. » Woodthorpe, in JAI xx. «0, 197. 
j» Westermarck, Ml i. 353, quoting authorities. 
" Sainte-I'alaye, Mitnoirea gur faiieienm chevalerie, Paris. 
1781, 1. 1.',]. ' 

•» B. farkioson, Ih-eungJahre in derSOdtee, Stuttgart 1907 
pp. 682-«. » . . 

VOL. v.— 5 



porary saoredness, as in the case of worshippers, 
pilgrims, and victims. Some examples have been 
incidentally noticed ; a brief reference to certain 
types must suffice here. 

In ancient India the ascetic had to wear coarse, worn-out 
garments, and his hair was clipped. The hermit wore skins or 
tattered garments — the term may include bark- or grass-cloth — 
and Ilia hair was braided. The &)idtaka wore clothes not old or 
dirty. He wore the sacred string. He was forbidden to use 
garments, shoes, or string which had been worn by others. 
The student for his upper dress wore the skin of an antelope or 
other animal, for his lower garment a cloth of hemp, or flax, or 
wool. He wore the girdle of a Brahman, a triple cord of JUutlja 
grass. A Ksatriya wore as his cord a bow-string ; a Vaiiya a 
cord of hemp.l The religious character of this caste-system 
renders the inclusion of the four last grades convenient. 

Temporarily, in worship and on pilgrimage, the 
ordinary member of an organized faith assumes a 
quasi-sacerdotal character. 

For the hajj to Mecca the Musalman must wear no other gar- 
ments than the iiiram, consisting of two seamless wrappers, 
one passed round the loins, the other over the shoulders, the 
head being uncovered. The ceremony of putting them on at 
a pilgrims'^ ' station ' is alihram, ' the making unlawful ' (of 
ordinary garments and behaviour and occupations). The cere- 
mony of taking them off is al-ihldl, ' the making lawful.' The 
hajji shaves his head when the pilgrimage is over."-* According 
to some, the ilirdin is the shroud prepared in the event of the 
hajjVt death. ^ More likely it is preserved and used as a shroud 
when he dies. 

The most important item in the costume of Japanese pilgrims 
is the oiznru, a Jacket which is stamped with the seal of each 
shrine visited. ' The three breadths of material used in the 
sewing of this holy garment typify the three great Buddhist 
deities— Aniida, Kwaimon, and Seishi. The garment itself is 
always carefully preserved after the return home, and when the 
owner dies he is clad iu it for burial.'* 

The dress of worshippers varies between ' decent 
apparel ' and garments of assimilation to the god 
or the victim or the priest. As in the case of Baal- 
worship,' the garments were often kept in the 
shrine, and assumed on entrance. In certain rites 
both Dionysus and his worshippers wore fawn- 
skins. The Bacchanals wore the skins of goats.' 
The veil of the worshipper has been referred to. 
In the earliest Christian period a controversy 
seems to have taken place with regard to fenial^ 
head-dress during worship.' In the modem custom 
the niale head-dress is removed, the female is 
retained. Academies sonietiiiies preserve the rule 
of a special vestment for worshippers, whether lay 
or priestly. 

It has been noted that the dress of joghors, 
troubadours, and trouvh-es was an assimilation to 
the sacerdotal.' From the same mediaeval period 
comes the record of 'singing robes.' 

(7) Priestly and royal robes.— The dress of tlie 
sacred world tends to be the reverse of the pro- 
fane. Apart from the impulse — to be traced in 
the mentality of medicine-men — to impress one's 
personality upon the audience by the fantastic and 
tlie grotesque, there is here the expression of the 
fundamental opposition between natural and super- 
natural social functions. 

The garh of Tshi priests and priestesses differs from ortlinary 
dress. Their hair is long and unkempt, while the lav fashion ia 
to wear it short. The layman, if well-to-do, wears bright cloth ■ 
the priest may wear only plain cloth, which is dyed red-brown 
with mangrove-tan. Priests and priestesses, when about to 
communicate with the god, wear a white linen cap. On holy 
days they wear white cloth, and on certain occasions, not 
explained, their bodies are painted with white clay. White 
and black beads are generally worn round the neck.s The Ewe 
priests wear white caps. The priestesses wear steeple-crowned 
hats with wide brims. Priests wear white clothes. Priestesses 
wear 'gay cloths ' reaching to the feet, and a kerchief over the 
breaHt.^'> 

The survival of some antique mode often suffices, 

through various accidents and modifications, for 

the priestly {;arb, other than sacerdotal vestments. 

Thus, the ncinium, a small antique mantle, was 

' 'Lawsof Manu,'in.9BBl[xv. ch. vi. 44, 62,6, 15,iv. 34-36 60 
» E. Sell, Faith «} Iglam 2. 1S9«, pp. 279, 289. 

3 liurton, El-Medinah and Mecca, ed. 1898, i. 139. 

4 B. II. Chainlierlain, in JAI xxii. (1893) .idO. 

5 Cf. 2 K 1022. 6 Frazcr, Gii2 ii. ico. 

1 9'-n ''^i,""^.- w , ? "Spencer, Prin. q/ Socio!. Ui. 222. 
' A. B. Ellis, Tihi-gpeakitij/ Peoples, 128 f. 
" Ellis, Ewe-gpeaking Peoples, 143, 146. 



DBBSS 



vrorn by the magisttr of the Fratres Arvales and by 
eamiili peneralfy. 

The history of the dress of the Christian nriest- 
hood is a striking example of this. Here also we 
find the principle of opposition to the lay-garb. 
The democratic and non- professional character of 
primitive Christianity may be seen in the fact 
that in A.D. 428 Pope Celestinus censured Galilean 
bishops who wore clress different from that of the 
laity. They hod been monks, and retained the 
pallium and girdle instead of assuming the tunic 
and toga of tlie superior layman.' It is curious 
that the social instinct towards differentiation of 
dress to mark differentiation of social function 
was resisted so long. But in the 6th cent, the 
civil dress of the clergy automatically became dif- 
ferent from the dress of the country, since, while 
the laity departed from the ancient type, the 
clergy withstood all such evolution. Thus, in the 
Western Empire the clergy retained the toga and 
long tunic, while the laity wore the short tunic, 
trousers, and cloak of the Teutons, the gens 
bracata. Gregory the Great would have no person 
about him cla3 in the ' barbarian ' dress. He en- 
forced on his entourage the garb of old Rome, 
trabeata Latiniias. This cleavage was gradually 
enforced, and from the 6th cent, onwards the 
clergy were forbidden by various canons to wear 
long hair, arms, or purple, and, generally, the 
secular dress. 

The characteristic garb of the Christian clergy, 
both civil and ecclesiastic, was the long tunic. 
Originally it appears to have been white. Then 
its evolution divided ; the alb derived from it on 
the one side, the civil tunic in sober colours on the 
other. For the civil dre-ss the dignified toga was 
added to constitute full dress ; for use in inclement 
weather the casula or cappa, an overcoat (pluviale) 
with a cowl, was adopted. The last-named gar- 
ment similarly divided into the ecclesiastic cope, 
and the civil over-cloak. The long tunic still sur- 
vives in three forms — the surplice, the cassock, and 
the frock coat. Its fashion in the last instance 
superseded the toga, which again survives in the 
academic gown. 

The evolution of vestments is in harmony with 
the psychology of dress generally, and in many 
aspects illustrates it forcibly. With the vestment 
the priest puts on a ' character ' of divinity. By 
change of vestments he multiplies the Divine force 
while showing its different aspects. The changing 
of vestments has a powerful psychical appeal. 
The dress is a material link between liis person 
and the supernatural ; it absorbs, as it were, the 
rays of Deity, and thus at the same time inspires 
the human wearer. The dress is accordingly re- 
garded not as an expression of the personality of 
the wearer, but as imposing upon nim a super- 
personality. This idea is implicit in every form of 
dress. Dress is a social body-surface, and even in 
sexual dress, military uniform, professional and 
official dress the idea that the dress has the pro- 
perties of the state inherent in it is often quite 
explicit. Further, the dress gives admission to the 
grade. In particular cases of solemnity a dress 
serves to render the person sacrosanct. Thus the 
Australian messenger is sacred by reason of his 
red cap.' 

A temporary sacred garment may even be used 
sacriCcially. At the Zulu festival of the new 
fruits, the king danced in a mantle of grass or of 
herbs and com leaves, which was then torn up and 
trodden into the fields.' In such cases there is 

1 Ohectham, in Smlth-Cheetham's DC A, ».t>. 'Dress.' 

« J. Kraser, 81. 

s J. HhooUr, 27 ; N. Isaacs, li. 293. Frazcr, who cites the 
custom, susgeats that in earlier times the king himself was 
■lain and placed on the flelda (ftB^ iL 828). The suggestion is 
unnecessary. 



laps a reverse assimilation of virtue from the 



sacred person. 

lioyal dress in civilization tends to combine the 
principles of military dress and the tradition of the 
long robes of ancient autocracy. The subject 
needs a special analysis. The aistinctive head- 
dress, the crown, probably is an accidental survival 
of a military fillet, confining the long hair which 
among the Franks was a mark of royalty.' But its 
significance is in line with the general principle, 
and it is eventually an affirmation of the dignity 
of the head, the crown of the human organism. 

Among the earliest cultnre.s, social authority 
tends to adopt a specific garb. 

The headmen of the Nagas wear a special dress.s The prlect- 
king of the Habb^^s wears a distinctive costume.3 The Kyasa- 
land tribes commission the man who buried the dead chief to 
cover the new chief with a rc<l blanket. * This he does, at the 
same time hitting him hard on the head.' * 

Ideas of purity readily attach themselves to 
priestly and royal garments. In the following 
case there seems to be some survival from Zoroas- 
trianism. 

Among the Kafirs of the Hindu Eush, men prejiaring for the 
office of headman wear a senii-sacred uniform which may on no 
account be defiled by coming into contact with dogs. These 
men, kaneagh, ' were nervously afraid of dogs, which had to be 
fastened up whenever one of these august personages was seen 
to approach. The dressing has to be performed with the 
greatest care in a place which cannot be defiled with dogs.'^ 

Other less prevalent details of royal raiment are 
such as the girdle and the veil. 

In ancient Tahiti the king at his investiture was girded with 
a sacred girdle of red feathers, which was a symbol of the 
gods.6 In Africa veiling the face is a general custom of royalty.? 
The pall of European monarcha, originally bestowed l)y the 
rope, typifies their sacerdotal function. 

There is a tendency for each article of a royal 
panoply to carry a special symbolism, significant 
of the kingly duties and powers, just as the articles 
of the sacerdotal dress express Divine functions 
and attributes. 

(8) Tfu dress of tfus gods. — Frazer has shown 
reason for believing that the costume of the Roman 
god and of the Roman king was the same. Probably 
the king wa.s dressed in the garments of Juppiter, 
borrowed from the Capitoline temple.' In the 
earlier theory of society the gods are a special 
class or grade in the community. Their dress 
has not infrequently been an important detail 
in the social imagination, and has even formed 
a considerable item in the national budget. In so 
far as they stand for super-humanity, it goes with- 
out saying that their raiment is the costliest and 
finest that can be obtained. 

Amongst the Nahuas, clothes were not the least important 
material both of sacrifice and of ministration to the gods, ' The 
finest cotton and woollen styittu are not only employed in their 
clothing, but are lavishly burnt in their sacrifices. '« Tlie gods 
of Peru had their own herds of llamas and paces, whose wool 
was woven for their robes, 1*> and virgin-priestesses spun and 
wove it and made it up into dress, il The Vedic gods wore 
clothe8.12 The Egj-ptian and Chalda>an priests dressed their 
gods and performed their toilet,!' as Hindu priests do now. The 
ancient Arabs clothed idols with garments. '"^ In Samoa sacred 
stones were clothed ; '^ and the images of the ancient Peruvians 
wore garments. !•* 

The most artistic of races preserved for a long time the non- 
aesthetic but anthropomorpliic custom of clothing statues with 
real clothes. The image of Apollo at Amyclx had a new coat 
woven lor him every year by women secluded for the work in a 
special chamber.i? Every fourth year a robe woven by a coll^ 
of sixteen women was placed on the image of Hera at Olympta. 



1 Frazer, Early History o/ the Kingthip^ 198. 
' T. C. Hodson, 24. 

3 L. Desplagnes, Le Plateau central nigirUn, Paris, 1907, 
p. 821 f. 
* Stannuo, in JAI x\. 316. 

6 O. S. Robertson, The Kafirs qf the Hindu Kuth, 1898, 
p. 466. 

« Ellis, Polynesian Researches, 1829, ii. 364 f. 

7 Frazer, GBS, pt ii. p. 120. « Frazer, Kimjship, 197. 
» Payne, i. 436. '» lb. 437. " lb. 608, 510, ii. 641. 

" Oldenlwrg, Itel. des Veda, .104, 366 f. 

is G. Maspero, Dawn of Cicilization 2, 1898, pp. 110, 679 ; Ball, 
in PSBA, xiv. (1892)1531. 
14 Wellhausen, iii. 98 ; cf. Is 3022. la Turner, 268. 
M Acosta, lliat. of the Indies (Hakluyt Society, 1880), ii. ST8. 
17 Pausan. iii. 16. 2, 19. 2. 



DRESS 



67 



Before starting work they purified themselves with water and 
the blood of pigs.i The image of Asklepioa at Titane wore a 
mantle and a shirt of white wool.3 Zeus in an oracle com- 
manded the Athenians to give Dione at Dodona new clothes.3 
The image of Hera at Samos possessed a wardrobe of garments, 
white, blue, and purple ; some the worse for wear.* The bronze 
statue at Elis of a man leaning on his spear, called the Satrap, 
wore a garment of fine linen.s The image of Brauronian 
Artemis on the Acroj>oli8 was covered with many robes, offered 
by devout women. The same was the case with the image of 
lUthjria at jEgium.6 The magnificent robe, first used as a sail 
for the sacred ship and then presented to the image of 
Athene at the Panathenaea, is famoiis. The image was the old 
wooden Athene Polias of the Erechtheum. It was clothed in the 
robe. This was woven every fourth year by two Arrhephoroi.7 

The dress of the god not seldom becomes a thing 
in itself, just as the dress of a priest or a king may 
itself be his substitute. 

The Polynesians employed tapa in many ritualistic ways. 
Idols were robed in choice cloths. Every three months they 
were brought out, exposed to the sun (the term for this being 
mehtaX re-anointed with oil, and returned to their wrappings. 
The god Oro was supposed to be contained in a bundle of 
cloths,8 Matting and sinnet were similarly used. Papo, the 
Savaian god of war, was ' nothing more than a piece of old 
rotten matting about 3 yards long Snd 4 inches in width.' Idols 
were covered with 'curiously netted sinnet,' just as was the 
hft^>aX6^ at DelpbL In Mangaia the gods were 'well wrapped 
in native cloth ' ; one god was * made entirely of sinnet.' ^ Tlie 
Tahttian word for sinnet is aha, and the first enemy killed was 
called aha^ because a piece of sinnet was tied to him.!*} 

The term * ephod ' in the OT apparently bears three meanings. 
(1) It is part of the high priest's dress. Worn over the * robe of 
the ephod,' it was made of gold, threads of blue and scarlet, and 
fine hnen. Its shape and character are doubtful. Held at the 
shoulders by two clasps, it was bound round the waist with a 
* curious ' girdle. (2) The term seems to be used for a garment 
set apart for priestly use only. (3) There is the ephod which is 
an image or its equivalent. Passages like Jg 8^ make it diffi- 
cult to interpret it as a garment. But, apart from questions of 
verbal interpretation which in some cases are very obscure.n it 
is possible to regard the ephod as a worshipped garment, the 
practice being found elsewhere, or as a garment enclosing or 
covering an image. 13 

Various Divine objects, symbols, or emblems 
may be clothed. In Uganaa a jar swathed in 
bark-cloth, and decorated so as to look like a man, 
represented the dead king.^ The Bhagats make 
an image of wood and put clothes and ornaments 
upon it. It is then sacrificed.'* Such cases involve 
impersonation. Even an emblem like the Cross, 
when veiled on Good Friday, or sacred centres like 
the Ka'ba and the 6pupa\6s, wlien clothed, decor- 
ated, or veiled, acquire a certain personal quality. 
The line is not always easily drawn between cover- 
ing and clothing. 

In the highest stages of theistic ima^nation the 
dress of a god tends to be metaphorical. He is 
clothed with the blue sky,'* with light, with 
clouds, or with thunder, with majesty, power, and 
splendour. 

(9) The drefts of victims. — By dressing an inani- 
mate object, an animal, or a plant, a human 
quality is placed upon it. It thus becomes a 
member of society, by which capacity its saving 
force is enlianced. It does not follow that being 
so garbed it is a substitute for a previous liuman 
sacrifice. Even gifts may be so personalized. The 
Malays dress and decorate buffaloes which are 
presented as a gift." But the principle is re- 
markably dominant in the case ot sacrifices and 
effigies. 

J Pausan. v. 16. 3 Frazer, Pausanias, ii. 674 f. 

' Hyperides, iii. 43 f. 

*Curtius, Insckriften von Samos (a list is given), pp. 10 f. 
17 ff. 

» Pausan. vi. 25. 5. 8 lb. i. 23. 9, vii. 23. 5. 

7 Frazer, Pau»ania9, ii. 574 f. 

8 Ellis, Pob/nes, Researches, t 335 ; Cook, Voyages, 1790, p. 
1542 ; Williams, Misatumary Enterprise, 1838, p. 152. 

» Williams, 375 ; Ellis, i. 337 ; Gill, Myths, 107, Jottings from 
the Pacific, 1885, p. 206. Sinnet or sennit is plaited palm-leaf 
strips. 

10 Davies, Diet, of the Tahit. Dialect, 1867, s.v. 

" Jg 17». 

13 8. B. Driver, In BDB, s.v. ; I. Benzinger and L. Ginsberg, in 
JB. s.v. ; Ex 28« 2»ft 393, Lr 87 ; Jos. Ant. iii. vii. 5. 

" J. Boflcoe. quoted by Frazer, GB^ il. 68 f. 

M DaltoD, Eihnol. of Bengal, 258 f. 

>• As Ohnst In Bume- Jones's picture of 

uSkmt,80. 



9 picture of the Second Advent. 



There are cases of a reverse impersonation : 
After killing a bear, the Koriaks dress a man in its skin, and 
dance round him, saying that they had not slain the hear.i 
When Nutkas had killed a bear, they put a chief's bonnet on 
its head and offered it food. 2 

Ordinary impersonation is more frequent. 

Russian peasants dress up a birch tree in woman's clothes.3 
At the Little Dsedala the Platteans dressed a wooden image 
made roughly from a tree, and decorated it as a bride.* The last 
sheaf of corn and similar representations of the corn-spirit are 
dressed in women's clothes at European harvests.^ The old 
Peruvians had a similar rite, and dressed a bunch of maize in 
women's clothes.6 The effigy called ' Death,' torn in pieces by 
Silesian villagers, is dressed m their best clothes. 7 The image 
of ' Death ' in Transylvania is dressed in ' the holiday attire of 
a young peasant woman, with a red hood, silver brooches, and a 
profusion of ribbons at the arms and breast.' 8 The Iroquois 
sacrificed two white dogs, decorated with red paint, wampum, 
feathers, and ribbons. 9 The human scapegoat of Thuringia 
was dressed in mourning garb.^o The scapegoat of Massiliawas 
dressed in sacred garments.ii The human victims of the 
Mexicans were dressed in the ornaments of the god, in gorgeous 
attire. In some cases when the body was flayed, a priest dressed 
himself in the skin to represent the deity.12 The human victim 
of Durostolum was clothed in royal attire to represent Saturn. 
The mock-king in various lands is dressed in royal robes, actual 
or sham. 13 The reasons for the various dresses just enumerated 
are sufficiently clear. 

Dress, by personalizing a victim, provides a con- 
venient method of substitution. "Wnen the oracle 
ordered the sacrifice of a maiden, a goat was 
dressed as a girl and slain instead.^* Such cases 
may be etiological myths, but they may well have 
actually occurred. It does not follow, however, as 
has already been urged, that all cases of a humanly 
clothed animal or vegetable victim represent sub- 
stitution for an originally human sacrifice. 

The principle of assimilation to a particular en- 
vironment, which is the focus of the ceremony, 
has striking illustrations. 

In a folk-drama of Moravia, Winter is represented by an old 
man muffled in furs, and wearing a bearskin cap. Girls in 

freen danced round a May-tree.i5 a common practice in 
uropean and other folk-custom is to dress a person represent- 
ing the spirit of vegetation in flowers or leaves. *In timeot 
drought the Servians strip a girl to her skin and clothe her from 
head to foot in grass, herbs, and flowers, even her face being 
hidden behind a veil of living green. Thus disguised she is 
called the Dodola, and goes through the village with a troop of 
girls.' 16 A remarkable case is seen in Sabsoan ritual. When a 
sacrifice was offered to * the red planet Mars,' as Longfellow 
calls it, the priest wore red, the temple was draped with red, 
and the victim was a red-haired, red-cheeked man. 17 The girl- 
victim sacrificed by the Mexicans to the spirit of the maize was 
painted red and yellow, and dressed to resemble the plant. 
Her blood being supposed to recruit the soil, she was termed 
Xalaquia, 'she who is clothed with the sand.' is The similar 
victim of the Earth-goddess occupied her last days in making 
clothes of aloe fibre. These were to be the ritual dress of the 
maize-god. The next victim, a man, wore the female victim's 
skin, or rather a portion of it, as a lining for the dress she had 
woven. 19 The victim of Tezcatlipoca was invested for a year with 
the dress of the pod. Sleeping in the daytime, he went forth 
at night attired m the god's robes, with bells of bronze upon 
them. 20 At the festival of Toxcatl, Tezcatlipoca's image was 
dressed in new robes, and all the congregation wore new 
clothes. 21 

10. Social control of dress. — Dress expresses 
every social moment, as well as every social grade. 
It also expresses family, municipal, provincial, 
regional, tribal, and national character. At the 
same time it gives full play to the individual. A 
complete psycliology of tjie subject would analyze 
all sucli cases with reference to the principle of 
adaptation. 

The least reducible of all distinctive costumes 
are the racial and the sexual. For instance, the 

1 A. Bastian, Der Menach in der Geschichte, Leipzig, 1860. 
iii. 2«. 

2 Frazer, GB^ ii. 399. 3 Ralston, 234 f. 

* Pausan. ix. 3. a Frazer, GB^ ii. 176 ff. 

6 lb. 193 f. 7 2b, 86. 

8 lb. 93. 9 lb. 108. 

10 lb. iii. 111. U Jb, 126. 

13 Acosta, ii. 323 ; GB'^ iii. 135 f. 
13 Frazer, GB'2 iii. 141, 150 ff. 

!■* lb. ii. 38, quoting Eustathiuson Ilom. II. ii. 732, p. 831. 
15 Frazer, GW ii. 102. 18 lb. i. 95 ff. 

17 Frazer, GB^ ii. 256, quoting Chwolsohn, Die Ssabier und 
der Saabismus, St. Petersburg, 1S66, ii. 388 f, 

18 Payne, i. 422 f. lo lb. 470. 

20 2b. 480 ; E. B. Tylor, Anahuac, 1861, p. 236. 
31 Payne, i. 487 f. 



68 



DREISS 



Hindu fastens hi» jacket to the right; the Musal- 
m&n to the left.' In European dress the male 
fashion Is to fasten buttons on the right, the female 
on the left. Where a division is central, the former 
still has the buttons on the right side, the latter on 
the left, the re»|ie«tive garments thus folding over 
in opposite directions. The larger dillereuces are 
obvious, and need not be repeated. 

A remarkable tendency is olwervable at the 
present day, which is due to increased facilities of 
travel and inter-communication, towards a cosmo- 
politan type of dress, European in form. 

Tlie sense of solidarity distinguishing social from 
individual life is sometimes expressed, as culture 
advances, in laws referring not only to the preserva- 
tion of social grades as such, but to their economic 
delimitations. Various particular reasons which 
do not call for examination here have been the 
immediate inspiration of sumptuary laws in various 
races and nations. The sumptuary law proper is 
often combined with regulations of grade-fashion. 

One ot the earliest ' laws ' of the kind is to be found in the 
ZA-ln o( the Chinese.* The Koreans have strict ' sumptuary * 
laws relating to dress. 'The actual design of the dress is tlie 

■ ial of 



i for all classes ; but it is the material of which it is made 
and its colour that are afifeoted by the law. The lower and 
middle classes may wear none but garments of cotton or hemp ; 
while silk is the jjrerogative of the officials, who have the right 
ftlso of wearing violet, which is a si^ of good birth or otflciaJ- 
dom.' The dress itself, usually white, consists of an enormous 
pair of trousers, tied under the armpits, and two or more coats 
reaching to the ankles. The sleeves of these are large, like 
those of the Japanese kimono. The poor wear sandals, the 
rich leather-lined shoes. In wet weather work-people wear 
wooden clogs in shape like the trench saboU.3 ' Silk,' accord- 
ing to Zoroaatrian law, ' is good for the body, and cotton for the 
soul.' The former is derived from a 'noxious creature'; the 
latter acquires from earth and water, which when personified 
are angels, part of their own sacredness.^ The Qur'an forbids 
men to wear silk or gold ornaments. The Prophet forbade 
also the wearing of long trousers * from pride.' His injunction 
was : • Wear white clothes . . . and bury your dead in white 
clothes. . . . They are the cleanest, and the most agreeable.** 

The military Dorian State passed laws against luxury in 
female dress. The Solonian legislation apparently followed its 
example. The lex Oppia of the Romans forbade, inter alia, the 
wearing by women of a dress dyed in more than one colour, 
except at religious ceremonies. The Emperor Tiberius forbade 
the wearing of silk by the male sex. PhUip the Fourth enacted 
a Uw against luxury in dress. The law of the Westminster 
Parliament of 13C3 was concerned chiefly with regulating the 
(ashioQ of dress of the social orders. The law passed in 1463 
(3 Edw. IV. 0. 6) regulated dress generally, on the lines of the 
Heroantile Theory of Economics, as had been the case, though 
less explicitly, in the previous English sumptuary legislation. 
Luxury in dress (so tlie theory w.is applied) merely increased 
the wealth of other countries. A Scottish law of 1621 was the 
last of the kind.o 

It is natural that social resentment should follow 
breaches of the most characteristic of all social 
conventions. The mere fact of strangeness as 
disturbing the normal environment is enough. 
Thus, in children and uneducated persons, ' anger 
may be aroused bv the sight of a black skin or an 
oriental dress or the sounds of a strange language.' ' 
In accordance with this essentially social instinct, 
the Li-ki denounces the wearing of ' strange gar- 
ments ' as a sin, adding that it 'raises doubts 
among the multitudes. ' The ofl'euce was punishable 
with death.' 

Various ideas of personal dignity are apt to be 
outraged by such breaches. Even in low cultures, 
carelessness in dress reflects upon both subject and 
object. Unless a Masai girl is well dressed accord- 
ing to native ideas, and anoints herself with oil, 
she is not admitted into the warriors' kraals,— a 
social privilfege,— and is regarded as outcast." In 
view of such social feeling, it is not surprising that 

> W. Crooke, rhinat Indian, 163. For the mistake of Dubois 
(p. 826) on this point, see above, j>. 46'', note 10. 

» ' U-ki ' (tr. J. Legge), in SBiS xxvii. (188S) 238. 

• H. 8. Saunderaon,1n JAI xxiv. 302 f. 
«SJ!«xxiv. (1886)49. 

• Biiayah, Iv. 92 ; Hughes, DI, 188S, «.r. ' Dress." 

• Oulzot, CiviUmtion, 184«, ch. 15 ; J. K. Ingmm, art. 'Sump- 
tnan' Laws.' in BBr*. '^ 

1 Westemiarck, MI U. 827. 

»SBBxxitLZSl. » HollU, TA* IfoMi, 26a 



in countries like India there is no liberty of the 
subject as regards dress. Nor is there actually 
any more liberty in the matter for members of 
European or American societies. Decency, essen- 
tially a social idea, has here its widest meaning : 
to contravene any unwritten law of dress is an 
ofience against decency — in itself an aiiaptation to 
environment and state. 

II. Inversion of sexual dress. — The remarks of 
Frazer may introduce this part of the subject, 
which is curiously large : ' The religions or super- 
stitious interchange of dress between men and 
women is an obscure and complex problem, and 
it is unlikely that any single solution would apply 
to all the cases.' He suggests that the custom of 
the bride dressing as a male might be a magical 
mode of ensuring a male heir,' and that the wear- 
ing by the wife of her husband's garments might 
be a magical mode of transferring her pains to the 
man.'' The latter mode would thus be the converse 
of the former. We may also note the import- 
ance assigned to the principle of transference or 
contagion. Such ideas, it may be premised, are 
perhaps secondary, the conscious reactions to an 
unconscious impulsive action, whose motivation 
may be entirely different. The whole subject falls 
simply into clear divisions, which may be explained 
as tliey come. The Zulu ' Black Ox Sacrifice ' pro- 
duces rain. The ofTiciators, chief men, wear the 
girdles of young girls for the occasion.' To pro- 
duce a change in nature, it is necessary for man to 
change himself. The idea is unconscious, but its 
meaning is adaptation. Its reverse aspect is a 
change of luck by a change of self. The most 
obvious change is change of sex, the sexual demar- 
cation being the strongest known to society, divid- 
ing it into two halves. The following shows this 
more clearly : 

In order to avert disease from their cattle, the Zulus perform 
the umlntba. This is the custom of allowing the girls to herd 
the oxen for a day. Ail the young women rise early, dress 
themselves entirely in their brothers' clothes, and, taking their 
brothers' knobkerries and sticks, open the cattle-pen and drive 
the cattle to pasture, returning at sunset. No one of the male 
sex may go near them or speak to them meanwhile.^ Here a 
change of officiators, sexually different, produces a change of 
luck and of nature. Similarly, among the old Arabs, a man 
stung by a scorpion would try the cure of wearing a woman's 
bracelets and ear-rings.'S In Central Australia a man will cure 
his headache by wearing his wife's head-dress. 

On this principle, as a primary reason, a large 
group of birth customs may be explained. 

When a Guatemalan woman was lying in, her husband placed 
his clothes upon her, and both confessed their sins.6 Here and 
in the next three cases the intention seems to be a change of 
personality to induce a change of state. A Gennan peasant 
woman will wear her husband's coat from birth till churching, 
' in order to delude the evil spirits.' When delivery is difficult, 
a Watubella man puts his clothes under his wife's body, and a 
Central Australian ties his own hair-girdle round her head. In 
China the father's trousers are hung up in the room, ' so that 
all evil influences may enter into them instead of into the child.'' 
In the last case the dress itself acts as a warning notice, repre- 
sentative of the father's person. 

In the following is to be seen the principle of 
impersonation, the reverse method of change of 
personality, combined, no doubt, with an impulsive 
sympathetic reaction, equivalent to a desire to 
share the pain. 

In Southern India the wandering Erukalavandhu have this 
custom—* directly the woman feels the birth.pangs, she infoniu 
her husband, who immediately takes some of her clothes, puts 
them on, places on his forehead the mark which the women 
usitally place on theirs, retires into a dark room, . . . covering 
himself up with a long cloth.'' In Thuringia the man's shirt 
is hung heloTQ the window. In South Germany and Hungary 
the father's smock is worn by the child, to protect it from fairies. 
In Konigsberg a mother puts her clothes over the child, to pre- 

1 Frazer, Adonit, Attis, Osiris^, 1907, p. 432. 
s Frazer, GB', pt. ii. 216, Totemimn and Uxogamy, iv. 248 It. 
» Callaway, 93. * Carbutt, in S. A/r. l-'LJ ii. (1880) 12 1. 

<• Uasmussen, Additamtataad Uistoriam .4ralmm, 1821, p. 65. 
C De llerrera, //iVf. o/ America, 1720, iv. 148. 
^ Ploss, i. 123, 264 ; Riedel, 207 ; S|ieiiccr-aiIIen >, p. 467 ; 
Doolittle, 1. 122. 
8 J. Cain, la I Am. (1874) 151. 



DRESS 



69 



vent the evil Drud carrying it off, and to dress a child in its 
fatlicr's smock brin^ it luck. Among the Basutos, when a 
child is sick the medicine-man puts a piece of his own tietmba 
garment upon it. In Silesia a sick child is wrapped in its 
mother's bridal apron. A Bohemian mother puts a piece of 
her own dress on a sick child. At Bern it is believed that to 
wrap a boy in his father's shirt will make him strong. Con- 
versely, in some partiS of Germany it is unlucky to wrap a boy 
in his mother's dress.' 

In the above cases, secondary ideas are clearly 
present. In particular, the innnence of a person s 
dress, as part of or impregnated with his person- 
ality, is to he seen. 

A holiday being a suspension of normal life, it 
tends to be accompanied by every kind of reversal 
of the usual order. Commonly all laws and 
customs are broken. An obvious mode of reversal 
is the adoption of the garments of the other sex. 

In the mediaeval Feast of Fools the priests dressed as clowns 
or women. In Carnival festivities men have dressed up as 
women, and women as men. In the Argrive 'Yftjiorijca festival 
men wore women's robes and veils, and women dressed as men. 
At the Saturnalia, slaves exchanged positions and dress with 
their masters, and men with women. In Alsace, as elsewhere 
at vintage festivals and the like, men and women exchange the 
dress of their sex. 3 In the medisevai feasts of Purim, the Jewish 
Bacchanalia, men dressed as women, and women as men.' 
The result, and in some degree the motive, of 
such interchange is purely social, expressive of 
the desire for good-fellowship and union. 

Numerous cases fall under the heading of sym- 
pathetic assimilation. Magical results may be 
combined with an instinctive adaptation, or may 
follow it. 

In Korea, soldiers' wives ' are compelled to wear their hus- 
bands' green regimental coats thrown over their heads like 
sliawls. The object of this law was to make sure that the 
soldiers should have their coats in good order, in case of war 
suddenly breaking out. The soldiers have long ceased to wear 
p*en coats, but the custom is still observed.* 4 The explanation 
IS obviously ex post facta. It seems more probable that the 
fashion corresponds to the European custom of women wearing 
their husbands' or lovers' colours. Every autumn the Ngente 
of Assam celebrate a festival in honour of all children tiom 
during the year. During this, men disguised as women or as 
members of a neighbouring tribe visit all the mothers and dance 
in return for present;*.^ In the Hervey Islands a widow wears 
the dress of her dead husband. A widower may tie seen walking 
about in his dead wife's gown. ' Instead of hor shawl, a mother 
will wear on her liack a pair of trousers belonging to a little son 
just laid in his grave.' ^ In Timorlaut, widows and widowers 
wear a piece of the clothing of the dead in the hair.? 

The custom is very frequent at pubertal cere- 
monies and at marriage festivities. 

At the ceremony of poSo, connected with the puijerty of 
their girls, Basuto women * acted like mad people. . . . They 
went about performing curious mummeries, wearing men's 
clothes aod carrying weapons, and were very saucy to men 
they met.' ^ The Masai l>oy is termed sipolio at hifl circuni- 
cision. The candidates 'appear as women,' and wear the 
mrutya ear-rings and long garment reaching to the ground, 
worn by marri^ women. Wlien the wound is healed they 
don the warrior's skins and ornaments, and when the hair lias 
grown long enough to plait they are styled il-muran, or war- 
riors.* Wiien an Eg>'ptian boy is circumcised, at the age of 5 
or 6, he parades the streets, dressed as a girl in female clothes 
and ornaments ixtrrowed for the occasion. A friend walks in 
front, wearing round his neck the boy's own writing-tablet. To 
avert the evil eye a woman sprinkles salt behind, if^ In the old 
Greek story tiie iKiy Achilles lived in Scyros as a girl, dressed as 
a girl, to avoid i)eing sent against Troy. Ue bore a maiden 
name, Issa or Pyrrha.i' 

In such cases we may see, at the initiation to the 
sexual life and state, an adaptation to it in the 
form of an assimilation to the other sex. 

The principle of sympathetic assimilation is 
clearly brought out in the following two ex- 
amples : 

At the ceremonial burying of the placenta, Babar women who 
officiate wear men's girdles if the child is a boy, but women's 

1 Plots, i. 123, u. 40; Oriitzner, in ZB, 1877, p. 78; Ploas, i. 
a2,U. 217, 221. 

• Dulaure, DimnMt gtniratricts, Paris, 1806, xv. 316 ; Brand, 
1.86.66; PluUiroh, Hut. Virt. 245 E; Mannhardt, Ver Baum- 
kuUut, Berlin, IsT.'i, p. 314. 

'Frazcr, tfi^iii. 160. 

• Sanndenon, in ,7^4 / xxiv. 303. ' Van Oennep, 09. 

• W. W. Gill, lA/e in the Southern ItU», 187f , p. 78. 
' RIedel, .'507. 

» Endeniann, in ZB, 1874, p. 87 B. 

» Hollis, The Masai, 298. >• Lam, 1. 61 f., li. 278. 

>■ Apollodorus, Dibliotheea, iil. 13. 8 ; Ptolemeus, Sana His- 
toria, 1. 



aaronjs if a girl. At the festival celebrating a birth, Fijian 
men paint on their bodies the tatu-marks of women.i In 
West Africa certain tribes have the custom of the groom wear. 
ing ills wife's petticoat for some time after marriage.2 In 
ancient Cos, the groom wore women's clothes when receiving 
the bride. Plutarch connects the custom with the story of 
Heracles serving Omphale and wearing a female dress. The 
Argive bride wore a beard ' when she slept with her hu8t>and,' 
presumably on the bridal night only. The Spartan bride wore 
a man's cloak and shoes when she awaited the coming of the 
bridegroom. In English and Welsh folklore there are cases 
of dressing the bride in men's clothes.3 

The custom of inversion of sexual dress is 
very common at wedding feasts among European 
peasantry. All these are cases of sympathetic 
assimilation to the other sex. The principle is 
brought out by such customs as that mentioned 
by Spix and Martius, of Brazilian youths at dances 
with the girls wearing girls' ornaments.* 

Many cases of the custom at feasts are compli- 
cated by various accidents. Sometimes it is 
meaningless except as a necessity. 

Among the Torres Islanders women do not take part in cere- 
monies. Accordingly, at the annual death-dance deceased 
women are personated not by women but by men, dressed in 
women's petticoats.5 

In other cases the data are insufficient for an 
explanation. 

'Thus, at harvest ceremonies in Bavaria, the officiating reaper 
is dressed in women's clothes ; or, if a woman be selected for 
the office, she is dressed as a man.6 At the vernal festival of 
Heracles at Rome men dressed as women. The choir at the 
Athenian Oschophoria was led by two youths dressed as girls.' 

Cases occur of change of sexual dress by way 
of disguise ; it is more frequent in civilization 
than in barbarism. 

A Bangala man troubled by a bad vumgoli, evil spirit, left hia 
house secretly. ' He donned a woman's dress and assumed a 
female voice, and pretended to be other than he was in order 
to deceive the iiwngoii. This failed to cure him, and in time 
he returned to his town, but continued to act as a woman.'** 

The last detail and the psychological analysis 
of modem cases suggest that a congenital tendency 
towards some form of inversion is present in such 
cases. On the face of them, we liave to account 
for the choice of a sexual change of dress. 

A Koita homicide wears special ornaments and is tatued. 
The latter practice is otherwise limited to the female sex.* 

Women's dress may involve the assumption of 
women's weakness and similar properties. 

The king of Burma suggested to the king of Aracan to dress 
hia soldiers as women. 'They consequently became effeminate 
and weak.''} 

The Lycians, when in mourning, dres.sed as 
women. Plutarch explains this rationalistically, 
as a way of showing ' that mourning is efJ'eminate, 
that it is womanly and weak to mourn. For 
women are more prone to mourning than are men, 
barbarians than Greeks, and inferior persons than 
superior.'" If the document is genuine, we may 
apply to tlie Lycians the principle adopted in 
regard to mourning costume generally. The state 
of mourning is an absolute suspension, and it may 
come to be regarded as an absolute reversal or 
inversion of the normal state of life. 

Death, the negative of life, has taken place and 
made a violent break with the tenor of existence ; 
hence such an adaptation as an inversion of sexuid 
dress. Occasions might well be conceived when, 
if cliange of attire was desired, the only obvious 
attire presenting itself would be that of the other 
sex. 

One of the most complex cases, at first appear- 
ance, is that of the adoption of feminine dress by 
priests, shamans, and medicine-men. Where for 
various mythological reasons an androgynous deity 

1 Riedel, 366 ; Williams, Fiji, 1858, i. 175. 

3 M. H. Kingsley, West A/r. Studies, Umdon, 1901, p. 181. 

3 PluUrch, Quaest.Gr. 68, Mul. Virt. 245, Lycurg. 16 ; I. lloore; 
Marriage Customs, 1814, p. 37. 

* Spix-Martius, llrazil, 1824, ii. 114. 

o A. C. Haddon, Head-hunters, 1901, p. 139. 

Frazer, am ii. 227. 

7 LyduB, de Mensibus, iv. 46 (81) ; Photitw, Bibliotheea, 822o. 

8 J. H. Weeks, in JAI id. (1910) 870 f. 

» Seligmann, 130. lO Lewiu, 137 f. 

" Plutarch, Consol. ad ApoU. 22; Vftler. Max. xii. §§ 6, 13. 



70 



DBBSS 



eziste, it is natural that the attendant priests 
should be sympathetically made twosexed in their 
earb, and eventhat the worshippers should invert 
their dress. Sacrifice was made to the Bearded 
Venus of Cyprus by men dressed as women, and 
bv women dressed OS men.' . i.- 

'as a rule, however, tlie deity is an invention 
intended, unconsciously enough, to harmonize witn 
a trSnal habit of priestly life.. This particular 
habit is of wide extension, and involves a whole 
genus of psychoses. Some examples may precede 

analysis: „ .^ ^ • , 

Chukchi «ham«n» commonly dress as women.' The banr of 
the I^yaks make their living U witchcraft, and "« drewcd a« 
women s The priestesses, Sattaiu, of the Dayaks dressed as 
men Sometimes a Dayak priest marries simultaneously a man 
Sid ; w?man.4 Amonp both the Northern Asiatic people. and 
the Dayaks it frequently happens that a double mversion takes 
SicTeo that of the wedded priesUy pair the husband is a 
womin and the wife a man. ft U said by the Korjaks that 
shamans who had changed their sex were very powerf"'-" The 
Illinois and Naudowessie Indians regarded such men as had 
•chanKcd their sex' as manitow, or supematurally ptted 
oersons « But it is unnecessary to assume th.at the practice is 
fntended to acquire special magical powers attributed to women. 
This idea may supervene. Possibly the fantastic nature of the 
change itself, as mere change, has had some influence. 

PataBonian sorcerers, chosen from children afflicted with 8t. 
ritus'dance, wore women's clothes. Priests among the Indians 
of Louisiana dressed as women.' In the Pelew Islands a 
remarkable change of sex was observed. A go<Ide8s often 
chose a man. instead of a woman, to be her mouthpiece. In 
such oases the man, dressed as a woman, was regarded and 
treated as a woman. One Bigniflcance of this is in connexion 
with the Pelewan social system. Frazer regards this inspiration 
by a female spirit as explaining other cases when sex is ex- 
changed, as with the priesthoods of the Dayaks, Bugis, Pata- 
gonifns, Aleuts, and other Indian tribes.S It is stated of some 
Sorth American cases that the man dreamed he was inspired by 
a female spirit, and that his ' medicine ' was to hve as a woman." 
In Uganda Mukasa gave oracles through a woman who when 
she prophesied wore clothes knotted in the masculine style." 
The legends of Sardanapalus (Assur-banl-pal) and Heracles, as 
well as the cases of the priests of Oybele and the Syrian goddess, 
would come under the explanation.! ' Heracles priest at 
Cos wore a woman's raiment when he sacrificed. Ihe story of 
Heracles himself may be a reminiscence of such effemmate 
priests, who were priest-gods. Dionysus Pseudanor is a sunUar 
emlKKliment of the principle. ^ j. . j » iv „j.i.o. 

Eunuchs in India are sometimes dedicated to the goddess 
UuUgamma, and wear female dress. Men who believe them- 
selvra to be imiwtent serve this goddess, and dress as women in 
order to recover their virility.15 A festival was given among 
the Sioux Indians to a man dressed and living as a woman, the 
btrdashe or <-coo-coo-o. ' For extraordinary privileges which 
he is known to possess, he is driven to the most servile and 
degrading duties, which he is not allowed to escape ; and he, 
being the only one of the tribe submitting to this disgraceful 
degradation, is looked upon as " medicine " and sacred, and a 
least is given to him annually.' IS 

Among the iron-workers of Manipur, the ^od Khumlangba is 
attended by priestesses, maibi. But a man is sometimes taken 
IKMsession of bv the god. He is then known as maiba, and 
wears at ceremonies the dress of a ma> M, viz. white cloth round 
the body from below the arms, a white jacket, and a sash. A 
fine muslin veil covers the head. 'The maibi is looked on as 
•aperior to any man, by reason of her communion with tlie god ; 
and therefore if a man is honoured in the same way he assumes 
the dress of the maibi as an honour. It a man marries a matin, 
be sleeps on the right of her, whereas the ordinary place of a 
woman is the right, as being the inferior side. It appears that 
women are more liable to be possessed by the god, and the same 
may be observed among all the hill tribes of these parts. " 

The nganga, medicine.men, of the Bangala, In certain 
ceremonies after a death, for the purpose of discovering the 
■layer dress up as women." Off the coast of Arracan there 
were 'conjurer*' who dressed and lived as women. On the 

1 Macrob. .Saturn, iii. 7. 2 ; Servius on Verg. ^n. ii. 637. 

» W. Jochelson, Koryak Religion and Myth (Jesup Expedition, 
t1. pt. L, L«yden and New York, M06), p. 621. 

« A. Hardeland, Dajacksch-deutKhes Warterbueh, Amsterdam, 
IS&e, f.v. 

* i. Pijnappel, in Bijdragen tot de Taal-, Land-, en Volken- 
kund* van Nedeft.-lndui, ill. (1868) 330 ; St. John, ForeHti of the 
Far Eatl, 1863, 1. 62. 

6 Jochelson, I.e. 

• J. Marquette, lUcit da voyage$, Albany, 1865, p. 63 f. 
7BMtian,liL80Bf. _ , „ , 
« J. Eubary, in liastian, AUerUi oim Voucs- unrt Mentchen- 

Inmde, Beriin, 1888, 1. 85; Fraier, Adonit, Atiie, Orim", fiS. 
» Max. »u Wied, quoted by Fnuwr, Le. 
1' RoKoe, quoted bv Frazer. I.e. " lb. 431 1. 

» Fawcett, in JASb xi. (18.'i4) 848. 
U a. Catlin, N. Amer. Indiam, 1876, U. 214 f. 
M J. Bhakeqiear, in J At xl. (1010) 864. 
UWeeks, iDy.<i/xl. 888. 



Congo a priest dreaned as a woman and was called arandmother.l 
The Nahanarvals, a tribe of ancient Oermany, had a priest 
dressed as a woman. Men of tlie Vallablia sect win the favour 
of KnoA by wearing their hair long and generally assimilU- 
ing themselves to women. The practice is even followed by 
ra]a«.> Candidate* for the oreoi society of Tahiti were inverted 
with the dress of women.s 

There is no doubt that these phenomena arc cases 
of sexual inversion, congenital or acquired, partial 
or complete. Any idea of inspiration by female 
deities or the reverse is secondary, as also the 
notions of assimilation of priest to goddess, or of 
marriage of a priest to a god. The Bif,'nihcant fact 
is that throughout history the priesthood has had 
a tendency towards effemination. The discussion 
of this belongs elsewhere. . 

Sexual inversion has especially obtained among 
the connected races of Korth Asia and America. 
It is marked by inversion of dress. 

' In nearly every part of the continent tof America] there 
seem to have been, since ancient times, men dressing themselves 
in the clothes and performing the functions of women. * Thus 
in Kadiak ' it was the custom for parents who had a girl-Uko 
son to dress and rear him as a girt, teaching him only domestjo 
duties, keeping him at woman's work, and letting lum associate 
only with women and girls.' » A Chukchi boy at the age of 
sixteen will often relinquish his sex. He adopts a wo"»an • 
dress, and lets his hair grow. It frequently happens that In 
such cases the husband is a woman and the wife a man. These 
abnormal changes of sex . . . appear K. be strongly encouraged 
by the shamans, who interpret such cases as an injunction of 
their individual deity.' « A similar practice is found among the 

Among the Sacs there were men dressed as women.s So 
among the Lushais and Cauca8ians.9 Among the former, 
women sometimes become men. When asked the reason, a 
woman so changed said 'her khuavang was not eooA,^ndm 
she became a man.' m In Tahiti there were men, called moAops. 
who assumed 'the dress, attitude, and manners »' w»o>™; " 
So among the Malagasy (the men called (iecate), the Ondonga 
in South-west (Oeraian) Africa, and the Diaklti-Sarracolese 
in the French Sudan.12 Of the Aleut schupana Langsdorff 
wrote : ' Boys, if they happen to be very handsome, are often 
brought up entirely in the manner of girls, and instructed in 
the arts women use to please men ; their beards are carefully 
plucked out as soon as they begin to appear, and their chins 
tattooed like those of women; they wear ornaments of glass 
beads upon their legs and arms, bind and cut their hair in the 
same manner as the women.' 1» Lisiansky described them also 
and those of the Koniagas : 'They even assume the manner 
and dress of the women so nearly that a stranger would naturally 
take them for what they are not. . . . Tlie residence of one of 
these in a house was considered as fortunate. Apparently the 
effemination is developed chiefly by suggestion beginning m 
childhood." In Mexico and Brazil there was the same custom 
In the latter those men not only dressed as women, but devot«l 
themselves solely to feminine occupations, and were desjMsed. 
Thev were called cudinas, which means ' circumcised. " Holder 
has studied the boU ('not man, not woman ') or otmiosA ( half 
man, half woman ') of the N.W. American tribes. 'The woman » 
dress and manners are assumed in childhood. Some of his 
evidence suggests that the greater number are cases otcongenital 
8«ua" inve^ilion. 'One Tittle fellow, while m the Agency 
boarding-school, was found frequently surreptitiously wearing 
female attire. He was punished, but finally escaped 'ro'> »':hoo1 
and became a 60W, which vocation he has since followed '» 'The 
i-wa mu5, man-woman, of the Indians of Cahforma formed a 
regular social grade. Dressed as women, they perforni«l 
women's tasks. 'When an Indian shows a desire to shirk his 
manly duties, they make him take his position in a circle of 
fire then a bow and a " woman-stick " are offered to him, and 
he is solemnlv enjoined ... to choose which he wiU, and ever 
afterward to abide bv his choice.'" Something analogous la 
recorded of the ancient Scythians and the occurrence of a 
»nX«ia TOU(7t« among them.l8 ,. ,. j. 4. „i„ 

Some of tlie above cases, difficult to disentangle 
accurately, are not so much cases of congenital 
inversion as of general physical weakness. It is a 

iMS.W^an«','«e«,««« We and Thought in India. 
1883, p. 136. 

3 Kllis, Polvn. Ret. i. 324. ^ ^^ ,,. 

4 Westermarck, Ml ii. 4S8, quotmg the authoriUes. 
» lb. 467, quoting Davydow. 

6 76. 458, quoting Bogoraz. j, -^ ,001: 1 001 « 

7 Jocliel«)n, 62 f. « Keating, ExpedUim, 1825, 1. 227 f. 
oSii, 265° Keineggs, ReschreUmng (te. Ka«*<«iM. Gotha 

and St. Petersburg, 1790, i. 270. 

10/^ xxxii. (Ifl03) 413. ,si« „ «S9 

11 J TurnbuU, Voyage round the World, 1813, p. SBis. 
U Westermarck, Ml iL 461, quoting authorities. 
" Langsdorff, Voyaget and Travels, 1814, 11. 47. 
"U. Lisiansky, Voi/ag«, etc., 1814, p. 199. 

16 Von Martins, Zur ^thnog. ylnjeriio'ir, lAjipag, 1867. i. 74. 
M A. B. Holde;, in N. Y. Med. Journ 7th l)eo. 1889. 

17 S. Powers, 132 f. " Herod, i. 106, Iv. 67. 



DRESS 



71 



remarkable aspect of certain types of barbarous 
society tliat the weak males are forced into the 
grade of women, and made to assume female dress 
and duties. Such a practice may, of course, induce 
Bome amount of acquired inversion. Payne ' has 
suggested that their survival was due to advance- 
ment in civiliz.T,tion, and that later they formed a 
nucleus for the slave-class. 

The occurrence of a masculine temperament in 
■women is not uncommon in early culture. In some 
tribes of Brazil there were women who dressed and 
lived as men, hunting and going to war.' The 
same practice is found in Zanzibar and among the 
Eastern Eskimo.' Shinga, who became queen of 
Congo in 1640, kept 50 or 60 male concubines. 
She always dressed as a man, and compelled them 
to take the names and dress of women.* Classical 
antiquity has many similar cases of qneens wearing 
men's armour in war, and of women fighting in the 
ranks, either temporarily, or permanently, as the 
Amazons. The last case, on the analogy of the 
West African cases of women's regiments, may be 
based on fact.' 

In modem civilization the practice of women 
dressing as men and following masculine vocations 
is no less frequent than was in barbarism the 
custom of effemination of men.' Women of mas- 
culine temperament are by no means a rare 
phenomenon to-day, and the balance of sexual 
reversal has thus changed. 

There remain to be considered two classes who 
form more or less deiinite social grades, and in 
some cases are distinguished by dress. These are 
old men and women.' After the menopause, women, 
as the Zulus say, 'become men,' and the customs 
of hionipri, or sexual tabu, do not apply to them 
any longer.' Often, instead of the dress of matrons, 
savage and barbarous women after the menopause 
dress as men. For instance, in Uripiv (New 
Hebrides) an old widow of a chief lived mdepend- 
ently, and ' at the dances painted her face like a 
man and danced with the Lest of them.'' Often 
they engage in war, consult with the old men, as 
well as having great influence over their own sex. 

Various enactments both in semi-civilized cus- 
tom and in civilized law have been made against 
inversion of dress. A typical decision is that of 
the Council of Gangra (A.D. 370) : ' If any woman, 
under pretence of leading an ascetic life, change 
her api>arel, and instead of the accustomed habit 
of women take that of men, let lier be anathema.' '° 
The point is noticeable that a.sceticism here, in the 
absence of a neutral garb, has recourse to the male 
dress. Such enactments and the modem laws on 
the subject are based on the Heb. law of Dt 22", 
and the Christian of 1 Co 11', but they embody a 
scientifically sound principle. 

12. Exchange of dress. — This custom is frequent 
between friends, lovers, betrothed, and as a mar- 
riage rite. It is analogous to an exchange of any 
objects serving as mutual gifts, and its ultimate 
origin is to be found in this natural and obvious 
practice. Originally, therefore, it is outside the 
sphere of the psychology of dress proper ; but it at 
once a.ssunies various ideas of dress, often in an 
intensified form. 

In Homer's story Olaucus and Dfomed exchanged armour and 
became brotherB-in-arm0.11 Among the KhamptU an exchange 

ifluC. U. 16 f. 

* M. de Gandaro, llittoria de Santa Cm, ed. 1837, p. 116 (. 

>Baiimann, in Verha7\dl. Berliner GaelUch. Anthrop., 1899, 
p. «68f. ; W. H. Dall, Alatka and iu Ramrca, 1870, p. 139. 

< W. W. Reade, 364. 

» Pausan. ii. 21 ; Apoll. Rhod. I. 712 ; Htolem. In Photius, 160, 
T. S3 : Mela, 1. 19 ; A. B. Ellis, Ewetpeaking Peoples, 183, 290. 

' On sexual inversion in women, see Haveloclc Ellis, Sexual 
Invertion, 1897, ch. iv., and App. F. (Countess Sarolta). 

1 See Van Oennep, 207. 8 Callaway, 440. 

» B. T. Somerville, in JAI xxiii. (1898) 7. 

10 Oheetham, In DCA, l.v. ' Dress." " II. vl. 236 f. 



of clothes * gives birth to or is a sign of amity.' 1 In Amboyna 
and Wetar and other islands, lovers exchange clothes in order, 
as it is reported, to have the odour of the beloved person with 
them. 2 In European folklore it is a very frequent custom that 
bride and bridegroom exchange head-dress.' The Ainu youth 
and girl after betrothal wear each other's clothes.* In South 
Celebes the bridegroom at a certain stage of the ceremonies puts 
on the garments which the bride has put off.^ Among the 
mediaeval Jews of Egypt a custom is recorded of the bride wear- 
ing helmet and sword, and the groom a female dress.6 At a 
Brahman marriage in South India the bride is dressed as a boy, 
and another girl is dressed to represent the bride.' 

The secondary idea which is prominent in these 
customs is that of union by means of mutual 
assimilation. This is shown "by such cases as the 
following : 

In Hum a family quarrel is terminated by a feast. The father 
of the injured woman puts on the shoulders of her husband 
some of his own family's clothes ; the husband puts on him a 
cloth he has brought for the purpose.** Among the Masai 
murder may be ' arranged ' and peace made between the two 
families by tho offices of the elders. ' The family of the mur- 
dered man takes the murderer's garment, and the latter [the 
family of the murderer] takes the garment of one of the dead 
man's brothers.'' 

A later stage of development is marked by ideas 
of contagion of ill-will, or of the conditional curse. 

By way of making a guarantee of peace, Tahitian tribes wove 
a wreath of green boughs furnished by both parties, and a band 
of cloth manufactured in common, and offered both to the gods, 
with curves on the violator of the treaty. 10 To establish that 
contact with a person which serves as a 'conductor' of con- 
ditional curses, in the Moorish institution of l-'ar, it is emugh 
to touch him with the turban or the dress.^1 The IJiblical story 
is not a case of indignity by mutilation of garments, but a 
magical act of guarantee. When Hanun, king of Animon, cut 
off half the beard and half the clothes of David's ambassadors 
when he sent them back, he wanted a guarantee of friendly re- 
lations. His wise men, Frazer observes, would be muttering 
spells over these personal guarantees while David was on his 
way.12 

Similarly, possession or con tact ensures sympathy, 
whether by mere union or by the threat of injury. 

In the Mentawey Islands, ' if a stranger enters a house where 
children are, the father or some member of the family present 
takes the ornament with which the children decorate their hair, 
and hands it to the stranger, who holds it in his hands for a 
while and then returns it.' The procedure protects the children 
from the possibly evil eye of the visitor.^' 

Union in marriage and other rites is commonly 
efTected by enveloping the pair in one robe, or by 
joining their garments together. 

In South Celebes the ceremony of ridjala sampit consists in 
enveloping them in one saronn, which the priest casts over 
them like a net.1-* The Tahitians and the Ilovas of Madagascar 
have the same custom. 1^ The Dayak 6a/ian throws one cloth 
over the pair. Among the Toba-Bataks the mother places a 
garment over them. A similar ceremony among the Nufoors 
of Doreh is explained as a symbol of the marriage ' tie.' 1' In 
north Nias the pair are enveloped in one garment. i' 

Among the Todas, the man who ceremonially sleeps with a 
girl before puberty covers her and himself with one mantle. 18 
The Hindu bride and groom are tied together by their clothes, 
in the ' Brahma knot.' It is the same knot as is used in the 
sacred thread. The tying is repeated at various points in the 
ceremonies. The mai\<jaiasutra, or tali, is a cord with a gold 
ornament, worn round the married woman's neck, as a 
European wears a wedding-ring ; and its tying is a binding 
rite. The bride and groom both don wedding clothes during 
the ceremonies.'^ The Bhillalas tie the garments of the bride 
and groom together. 20 Previously to the ceremony of ridjala 
sampu the clothes of the Celebes pair are sewn together — the 
rite of ridjai-kamtna parukusennaM 

1 H. B. Bowney, Wild Tribes of India, 1882, p. 162. 

» Riedel, 447, 67, 30O, 41. 

* Reinsberg-Diiringsfeld, Hochzeitsbuch, Leipzig, 1871, passim. 

4 Batchelor, The Ainu, 1892, p. 142. 

» Matthes, Bijdragcn tot de Ethnologit van Zuid-Celebes, The 
Hague, 1876, p. 35. 

« Frazer, Adonis'', 434, quoting Sepp, Altbayerischer Sagen- 
schatz, Munich, 1876, p. 232. 

' E. Thurston, Ethncg. Notes in Southern India, Madras, 1906, 
p. 3. 

8 Riedel, 28. » Hollis, The Masai, 811. 

10 w. Ellis, Polvn. Res. i. 318. 

'1 Wcstermarck, MI i. 686 ; cf. ERE iv. 372. 

12 2 S 104 ; Frazer, eB», pt. 11. p. 273. 

18 H. von Rosenberg, Dtr maiayische Arehipel, Leipzig, 1878, 
p. 198. 

14 B. F. Matthes, 31, 33 f. 

15 Ellis, Poti/n. Res. i. 117 f., 270, 272 ; J. Sibree, Madagascar 
and its People, 1870, p. 193. 

18 Orabowsky, in Aualand, 1886, p. 785 ; Kodding, in Olobus, 
liil. 91 ; van Hasselt, Oedenkboek, 1889, p. 42. 
" Sundermann, Die Intel Nias, Berlin, 1884, p. 443. 
18 Rivers, Todas, 1906, p. 603. l» Padfleld, 124 ft. 

» Kincaid, In JAI ix. 403. U Matthes, I.e. 



78 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



In connexion with marriajje the custom is hardly 
intended to unite the wunian to the man's family 
and tlie man to the woman's.' More probably lb 
merely assimilates the two individuals ; while, 
from the social [wint of view, it unites their 
respective sexual grades. 

It is remarkalile that many ceremonies of 
initiation, particularly those in which a spiritual 
fat lierhood and sonship is established, are analogous 
ill method to a marriage rite. Tlius the guru of 
the Deccau Mhiirs, when initiating a child, covers 
the child and himself with one blanket.' 

Ca.ses where the rite has one side only are natural, 
but are apt to take on the character of an act of 
acquisition and j)ossession. In the Sandwich 
Islands the bridegroom casts a piece of tapa over 
the bride, this constituting marriage.' It is 
analogous to the Hindn ' giving cloth.' In Arabian 
times to cast a garment over a woman was to claim 
her. This exi)lains the words of Ruth (Ku 3'). In 
Mai 2" 'garment' is equivalent to 'wife.'* A 
similar idea obtains in other circumstances, the 
dress having the force of a personal representative. 
The Southern Massim have a custom that a woman 
may save a man's life when struck down if she 
throws her diripa, grass-petticoat, over him.' 

LnnUTDBa.— This is fully given In the footnotes. 

A. E. Ckawlet. 

DRINKS, DRINKING.— The sensation of 
thirst is the psychological correlate of the meta- 
bolic functions of water. In direct importance 
drink comes next to air and before food. Thus in 
social psychology drink has played a more im- 
jwrtant part than food, especially since the primi- 
tive discoveries of fermentation and distillation 
made alcohol a constituent of drinkables. After 
being weaned from his mother's milk — a drink 
which is also a complete food — man finds a 
' natural ' drink in water. But, as experimenta- 
tion in food-material proceeded, the sensation of 
thirst was supplemented by the sense of taste. 
The resulting complex ' sense of drink ' was satis- 
fied by a series of discoveries which gave to drink- 
ables certain properties both of food and of drugs. 

Before they were corrupted by European spirit, the Kskimo 
dranlv chiefly iced water, which they liept in wooden tuba out- 
Bide their houses.^ But on occasion they drank hot blood, 
and melted fat. An obeer\'er states of the New Hebrideans ; 
• I have never seen a native drink water (or indeed use it for 
any purpose). When thirsty, a young coco-nut is split, and 
then with the head thrown back the whole of the milk Is 
literally poured down the throat without so much as one ffulp. 
. . . The avoidance of the most obvious [drink], fresh running 
water, which is in great abundance, and generally excellent, is 
very curious.' ' 

I. Fermented drinks.— (a) Beers. — It is impos- 
sible to trace with precision the order of discovery 
and invention. Prolmbly one of the earliest steps 
was the use and storage of fruit- juices. In time 
the practice of storage would lead to the dis- 
covery of fermentation. The use of com for the 
preparation of fermented liquor is perhaps almost 
as early as its use for food. Cereal agriculture 
itself 

' received a powerful stimulus from the discovery that infusions 
of corn, like drinks made ft«m the Juices of fruits and the sap 
ot trees, acquire an intoxicating quality by fermentation. . . . 
In most parts of the Old and the New World the produce ot 
cereal agriculture was from an early period largely consumed 
In the manufacture of some species of beer . . . the early 
cultivators drank it to excess.' ^ 



» As Van Gennvp holds (p. 246). On the whole subject of 
exchange of dress and similar practices, see Crawley, Mystic 
Rote, 1902, paSKim ; and tor marriage, G. A. Wilken, in bijdragen 
tci it Tool; Land; en Voltentunde van Nederl.-Indii, xxxriii. 
(188») 88-40011. 

» BO XTiii. 441. » Blis, rolyn. liei. Iv. 438. 

* W. Robertson Smith, Kinthip and Marriage 2, VMS, p. lOB. 
' 8«llgmannLB47. 

• F. lUtzel, Hilt, qf Xantind, Eng. tr., London, 1890^98. It 
116. 

' B. T. SomervUle, In J A I xxlil. (1894) 881 f. 
> Payne, llitl. <if the New World eatUd AmeriM, Oxford. 
1892-9, L8«3t. 



The n^e of malt«d grain is probably later than 
the simpler principle of infusion. The term 
■ beer ' is generally employed to include the pro- 
ducts of both. In the majority of early beers, 
such as the Mexican and Peruvian chicha, infusion 
only is used. 

In Eastern Asia an intoxicant made from rice is 
very general. Oryza glutinosa is frequently used 
for it. The manufacture among the Dayaks is as 
follows : 

The rice is boiled, placed in pota with yeast, ragi. This stands 
for some days exposed to the tun. Then water is added, and 
the mixture is allowed to tenuent for two days. It is then 
strained through a cloth. This drink is the tuwak of Uxe 
Dayaks, the tapai of the Malays, the badag of Java. A 
siuiilar drink is made by the Bugiuese and Hakassars, called 
brom. These drinks are extremely intoxicating.^ The rioe- 
beer, zu, of the Nagas is said to be soporiflc rather than in- 
toxicating.2 This is also largely the case with barley-beers in 
all their varieties. ' The liquor which plays so important ft 
|>art in the daily lite ot the Garo is always brewed and never 
distilled. It may be prepared from rice, millet, maize, or 
Job's tears. ' * Many aboriginal tribes ot India drink rice-beer.4 
The term eamtkoo, or aainshee, in China includes rice-beer. 
Saki or taJci, the national drink ot the Japanese, is made from 
the best rice-grain by fermentation. It has a slightly acid 
taste, and is of the colour ot pale sherry. Inferior varieties are 
thiro-zakf (white lahS), and a muddy sort, nigari-zaki. There 
is a sweet variety, minn. 

I5eer made from varieties of millet (Andropogcm 
sorghum vulgaris) is the chief African drink. Its 
nse extends from the Kaffirs to the Egyptians. 
Under the name oipombe it is familiar throughout 
Central Africa." In Egypt it is known as durra- 
beer. Besides rf«rra-beer, the Nubians and Abys- 
sinians make a sour beer from oats.' 

Where barley is the staple grain for beer mann- 
factnre, rye is sometimes used to make a coarser 
variety. Wheat is occasionally used. In CSer- 
many it was once largely employed in what was 
known as Weissbier. 

A grain as important regionally as rice and 
millet for the manufacture of beer is maize {Zea 
mais). Occasionally used in the Old World, as in 
parts of Africa, it is the staple grain for beer in 
America, its use extending from the Chaco Indians 
to the Apaches in the North. The latter made 
much use of it in their ceremonial life. They 
called it tizwin, and flavoured it with variovis 
spices.' The Southern and Central America maize- 
beer is known as chicha — a name as familiar as is 
pombe in Africa. 

The fermented liquor, chicha^ is an infusion of cooked maiie 
in water. This is allowed to ferment Its use was universal 
throughout ancient Mexico and Peru.8 Chidia boiled down 
with other ingredients was a particularly strong intoxicant, 
used only at the huacas. To-day the Iquitos of the Amaions 
brew very excellent chicha, flavouring it with the young shoot! 
ot a plant which has the effeot« of an opiate.* 

In Mediterranean and north European culture, 
barley has lieen the staple of beer. 

The ancient Egyptians made a beer, zythum, from barlev. 
Dioscorides mentions ^v&oi, icovpfii, and ^pvrov as being used in 
the Greek world. The Hebrews seem to have included l)eer in 
the term thikhar (EV ' strong drink '). Spanish beer {oelia or 
ceria\ Gallic beer {cereviitia\ and an Illyrian beer were known 
to the Romans. 10 Germany and England have always been 
famous for their beers, and in modem times their output is the 
most imi>ortant. There was an old distinction between ale 
(beer without bops) and beer (the hopiJed liquor). Climate and 
water, as in the case of wine, have much to do with the pro- 
duction of varieties. English beer is quite a distinct vancty 
from either the light or the dark beer of Germany. The 
Kussian kvass is a beer ot barley and rye, or of rye alone. 

The geographical range of l>eer, including rice, 
maize, and millet, as well as barley and rye-beer, 

1 Wilken-Pleyte, Bandleiding voor de vergelijkende VoOien- 
Inmde van Sederlandsch-Indie, I,eyilcn, 1893, p. 9. 

2 T. 0. Hodson, Naga Tribes of Manipttr, London, 1911, p. 7. 
» Playtair, The Gar'os, London, 1909, p. 62. 

4 Sherring, Hem. At. Stie. Beng., IfKKi, p. 101. 

6 Decle, in JAl xxiii. 422 ; Ratzel, ii. »67. 
« Ratiei, iii. 89. 

7 Bourke, in American Anthrop. vil. (190B) 297 ; W. B. Grubb, 
An Unhnown People, I/ondon, 1911, p. 76; Im Thnrn, The 
Indians of Gin'ana, London, 1888, p. 263. 

8 Paj-ne, i. 364. 

» C. 11. Markham, in JAI xl. (1910) lOS. 
10 S. A. Wyllie, art. ' Brewing,' in EBr» 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



19 



nnder the term, is precisely that of the respective 
cereals, covering the globe, except the Arctic and 
Antarctic parallels, and a narrow belt where the 
vine OTOws. In this belt, wine has always had 

firecedence over beer and siririts, and it is not a 
uxury. In northern Europe, beer is more or less a 
' national ' drinic, and everywhere it is a compara- 
tively cheap beverage. Its general characteristic 
as opiMjsed to wine that it has greater power of 
refreshment. Improved methods of storage have 
increased this since the time when beer had to be 
drunk as soon as it fermented. 

(6) H'tn&?.— There is no reason why the terra 
• wine ' should not be retained to include the many 
varieties of liquor made by savage and semi- 
civilized races from the sap of trees. The latex 
of vegetable stems is sufficiently homologous with 
the iuice of fruits, as that of the grape, to be 
classified with it in a genus distinct from fer- 
mented grain. It should be noted, however, that 
observers sometimes use the terms ' Ijeer ' and 
•wine' indiscriminately, and do not always dis- 
tinguish between fermented and distilled liquors. 

As soon a.s vegetable juices, as distinguished 
from decoctions of grain on the one hand and in- 
fusions of leaves and berries on the other, are in 
question, the difference between the taste of grape- 
Bugar, maltose, and thein is conspicuous. The 
character of wines may be described as sweet, that 
of teas as bitter, and that of beers as bitter-sweet. 
This permanent character is, as will be noted be- 
low, generally modified by art. 

The discovery of the clrink value of the sap of 
certain trees was not difficult. Those chiefly used 
are palms, sugar-canes, and agaves. 

In West Africa, palui-wine is the universal drink,' and it is 
commonly used all over the continent. The tree U8e<l is the Raphia 
vin^era, a bamboo-palm. The same tree is uscii (or the pur- 
pose in Uadagascar.'^ Palm-wine is the chief drink in most of 
the East Indian islands, Celebes, and especially the Moluccas ; 
U is nsed to some extent in Java, Sumatra, Malaysia, and 
Imlis. In the Moluccas the chief tree used is the Amiga sac- 
tharifera. The flower-stalk is tapped and the juice is fer- 
■lented. Sweetness is sometimes corrected by adding bark. 
This drink, a typical form of palm-wine, is known as sagero in 
the lloluccas, tuwat in Malaysia and arnon); the Bataks and 
Dayaks, and tegen in Java.' It is the toddy of India, which is 
also made from the coco-pelm and date-palm.* The Borasnu 
/tabfllif'mnii is used in Leti, Mo«, and L»kor.» This palm is 
the Palmyra of India and Africa. In view of the principle that 
adaptation to climatic conditions is partly effected by diet, it 
is noteworthy that the people of Tenmiber and Tiaiorlaut say 
that it is impossible to hve in these islands without drinking a 
■utBciency of palm-wine. 8 The Guaraunos of the Orinoco made 
a fermented drink from the Mauritia palm.' The gTcy of 
British Guiana is from the (xta palm.8 The not distant relative 
of then palms, the sugar-cane {Saechamm oficinarum), is an 
obvious source of drinkables. In Burma, Assam, and Tong- 
iing, a fermented drink is made from it together with pine- 
apple juice.* The A-kamba nukke a fermented liquor from the 
auijarcane and dried fruits.'" The A-kikuyu fennent the Juice 
of the sugar-cane." 

The ancient Mexicans were very skilful in the preparation 
of fermented liquors. The chief source of material was the 
maguey, the false or American aloe {Agave Americana), the 
fermented sap of which forms pulque. Like palm-wine, pulque 
is obtained by tapping the flowering stalk of the aloe. The 
•ap can be drawn off three times a day for several months, one 
plant yielding perhaps severul hogsheads. To increase its in- 
toxicating qualities, various root* are added. In appearance 
it resembles niilk and water, or soapsuds, and it tastes and 
nnells like rotten eggs. In 1S90, 75,000 tons of pulque were 
carried on the main line of the Mexican railway— twice as 
much as the weight of any other commodity.'^ 

The North American Indians made a fermented liquor from 
maple- and birch-sugar.'3 In England the sap of these trees, 
as also of the aah and spruce, has been used (or the same pur- 



1 Ratzel, iii. 110 ; Torday-Jovce, in JAI xxxvi. (1906) 42. 

« W. Ellis, Uiit. 0/ Madagatcar, London, 1838, i. 210. 

3 Wilken-Ilevte, 8 f. 

* R&jendralala Mitra, Indo-Aryaru, OalcutU, 18S1, i. 418. 

SRiedel, De tluik- en kroetharige rassen, The Hague, 1880, 
pp. 15, 382 f., 434. 

« /*. 8.3. ' Pavne, i. 309. 

« Im Thurn, 268. » Ratzel, i. 361. 

w C. W. Hobley, Ethnology of A-Kamba, Camb. 1910, p. 31. 
" W. 8. Koutlcdgc, With a I're-IIMuric People, London, 1810, 
p. 62. 
U Payne, L 874 1 " Hatiel, iii. 420. 



pose. Spruce-* beer ' is common in northern Europe i — a de- 
coction of the young leaves of the spruce-fir. Oider ia a 
fermented liquor made from apples. 

The geographical range of the grape-vine makes 
two narrow belts round the world, extending, 
roughly, from parallel 30° to 50° N. and S. But 
various conditions have limited its successful ex- 
ploitation even here, and its most effective range 
is confined to southern and central Europe and 
parts of western Asia. In Italy, Spain, Portugal, 
Ijreece, and southern Europe generally the vine 
grows easily. In northern France and Germany 
it needs very careful culture. The southern wines, 
it has been noted, possess a larger proportion of 
sugar, but often are inferior in Douquet to those 
of the north. France, the Khine districts of Ger- 
many, Spain, Portugal, Italy, Sicily, parts of 
Austria-Hungary, and Madeira produce the best 
wines of the world. Xeres and Oporto have given 
their names to famous wines of Spain and Portugal. 
The sack drunk in old England was a sherry. 
The Johannisberg vintages of Germany and the 
Tokay vintages of Hungary are particularly famous. 
The once famous Canary is still produced in the 
Canary Islands. Greece, Algeria, and Kussia make 
fair wines, and wine is now increasingly grown in 
Australia, South Africa, and America. In Persia 
the wines of Shiraz, the produce of an excellent 
variety of vine, are still famous.' In the Grseco- 
Koman world the vines of the Greek Islands, such 
as Chios, Lesbos, and Cos, produced the most 
valued wines. The Italian wines never attained 
their standard of excellence. A good deal of must 
was used by peasants, and wine turned sour was 
a favourite drink, and formed part of the rations 
of troops. The various Grjcco-Koman drinks were 
used in Palestine. 

2. Distilled drinks, — Distillation, the process of 
evaporating a fermented liquor, and thus separat- 
ing alcohol, has been known in the East, especially 
in China, from the remotest antiquity.^ It is an 
invention difficult to trace to its source, but it 
seems to be .attested for a few peoples at the stage 
of the lower barbarism, and in the higher stages 
of barbarism it is very generally known. Some 
of the more primitive American Indians seem to 
have been acquainted with the process.* A primi- 
tive form of (fistillation was found by Cook m the 
Pacific Islands. It was known to, but little used 
in, the ancient Mediterranean civilization. 

It is recorded that in the 12th cent, the Irish distilled 
whisky, uisge-beatha = aqua vita, 'the water o( li(e.' 5 In 
British Central A(rica 'spirita used to be made by distilling 
from beer and banana- and palm-juice by means o( a pot and 
a gun-barrel.' 6 But the process is rare in A(rica. In the East 
it is very common. The Korean native spirits are distilled 
(rom rice or millet, and vary in colour, (rom that o( beer to 
that o( pale sherry.' The Chinese distil spirits from millet and 
maize,8 but chiefly from rice. Rice-spirit and distilled palm- 
wine are largely drunk in the East. In Sumatra rice-beer is 
distilled into a spirit.* In South India this is also used. 
Arrack proper is a spirit di.stilled from palm-wine. In the 
Moluccas it is termed fco?t-water. Sagero from the Arenga 
saccharifera, or Borassug jiabelliformis, is distilled in a primi- 
tive fashion. 10 Arrack, distilled from toddy, or from rice, is 
largely drunk in India by the lower classes. It is the surA of 
the ancient Ilindus. Various peoples, such as the Malagasy, 
distil spirits (rom the juice o( the sugar-cane," a primitive form 
of rum. 

In modem European civilization the use of spirits has In- 
creased, relatively, more than that of beers and wines. 'The 
Russian vodka is distilled from rye, an inferior sort from 
potatoes. Scotland and Ireland are famous for their whiskies, 
France for its brandy of Cognac, Uolland (or ito schnapps, or 
hollands, a form of gin. 

' The German Sproasenbier. 
2 Dittmar-Newraan, art. ' Wines,' In EBr^. 
5 DittmarPaton, art. ' Distillation,' in EBr'. 
* Bourke, in Amer. Anthrop. vii. 297. 

5 Dittmar-Paton, loc. cit. 

6 Stannus, in J A I xl. 822. 1 Ratzel, iii 470, 
8 Saunderson, in JAI xxiv. (1894-B) 308. 

» Boers, in Tijd. Hed.-lndU, xxiv. 2(1840X p. 609. 
10 Wilken-Pleyte, 9 ; Riedel, 83, 123, 291, 820, 434. 
i> Ellis, Uial. of Madagatcar, i. 210; Rajcndralala llitra, i 
897. 



74 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



PorUiKOI tt'xl Siialn produce a true brandy, known u 
amardienU. Brandy proper i» chiefly made in France. It 
U distilled from grape-Juioe alone. Kactltiouu or 'British' 
brandy ia, like gin, made from ' siliiit.' or unflavoured, whisky. 
Whisky la made Irom a fermented infusion of grain, chiefly 
barley, lometimea lye, malted or unm&lted. Rum in its varle- 
tiM U made from molasses, and can be produced wherever 
•ugar^iaDe grovn. Its chief seat of manufacture is the West 
Indiea. Germany and Russia produce potato brandy from the 
/tenia of potatoes.* 

Medieval Europe was rich in the lore of making 
cordials and essences. To the earliest period of 
the Middle Ages belong the terms aqua vitw and 
elixir vitce. The search of alchemy for elixirs of 
life and youth probably gave some impetus to 
industrial invention. 

Civilized tast« has declared against the fer- 
mented drinks included in the term ' mead.' 
Fermented liquors made from honey have been 
largely u.sed from the earliest barbarism. The 
Bogos and Abyssinians make a variety of mead.' 
What is commonly styled honey-' beer ' often is 
merely a sweet fermented liquor ; but true honey- 
wine IS reported for the Hottentots, Feloops, and 
A-kamba.' Certain peoples have made fermented 
liquors from saccharine substances produced from 
plant juices by evaporation. 

Such are recorded for ancient Syria, made from wine and 
palm-wine. In Yucatan a fermented liquor was made from 
metij ' honey,' and in Peru from that obtained by boiling the 
berries of Schinus moUe. Honey-mead, inadhu (=Gr. nf0v), 
whatever its nature, is recorded for ancient India. It is said to 
have been superseded by stmia,* 

3. Infusions.— Tea, coffee, and cocoa are stimu- 
lants, without the specific efl'ects of alcoholic 
drinks. Their properties are due respectively to 
the alkaloids thein, cafl'ein, and theobromin. The 
use of these infusions and decoctions has increased 
enormously in modern times. It is significant 
that China lias never been addicted to the use of 
alcoholic liquor, and that coli'ee is chiefly grown 
in Muhammadan countries. Ancient Mexico seems 
to have had a hard struggle against the national 
abuse of intoxicants, and its successful crusade 
was largely due to the presence of cocoa. 

The tea-plant {Thea chinensis) is a native of 
China and Assam. Its cultivation in India and 
Ceylon is only very recent, but has assumed enor- 
mous proportions, chiefly in N.E. India and Assam, 
and S. India, as in Travancore. 

Used tor centuries in Russia, which derived good tea from 
China since its connexion with the East, tea is now drunk 
practically all over the world. Even a people like the sav.iges 
of the New Hebrides are fond of tea, coffee, and cocoa, pro- 
vided there is plenty of sugar. But the wilder natives still 
prefer the milk of the coco-nut.5 The distinction between 
black and green tea is due to different methods of drying the 
leaf. The use of tea among European peoples is relatively 
recent, while for China it has been traced back to the begin- 
ning of the third millennium B.c. 

Tradition assigns the discovery of coffee to 
Abyssinia. It was introduced into Arabia in the 
IStn cent., and into Turkey in the 16th. In the 
17th cent, its use gained a footing in England and 
France. The coflee of the New World, deriving 
from one plant sent to Surinam from Amsterdam 
in 1718, is now the largest production, Brazil sup- 
plying the greater part. Arabia, North Africa, 
and the East Indies are the other great coffee- 
regions. It is grown also in Southern India. 

The best Arabian coffee is grown in Yemen. Besides the 
infusion of the roasted berry, there is a coffee prepared from 
the leaves. The green shoots are dried in the sun, and then 
roasted and powdered. The resulting beverage is the kishr of 
Yemen, the icedang kopit of Java, and the kawah of Sumatra. 
The aroma is regarded as being superior to that of ordinary 
coffee from the berry.** 

The tree from which cocoa and chocolate are 
made is indigenous to Central and South America. 
It was cultivated by the Mexicans, and from tliem 

• Dittmarl'aton, toe. eit, ' Ratzcl, iii. 211. 

• Mango Park, Tratwto, London, 1860, i. 7 ; T. Hahn, Tmni- 
Ooam, London, 1881, p. 88 ; Hoblcy, 81. 

• Payne, I. 877 f., quoting authorities ; A A. Uacdonell, 
Vedic MyOtoiogy (01 AP, Strassburg, 1897), 114. 

• Somenrilie, in JAI xxiii. 382. 

• Wilkeu-Pleyte, 8 ; Batzel, i. 433, ia 211, 334. 



the beverage was introdnced to Europe by the 
Spaniards. 

The Mexican cocoa was prepared by mixing the cacao-seed 
into a paste with maize. Diluted with hot water, and churned 
into a thick froth, which was the actual beverage, it was drunk 
when cold only. The Spaniards introduced the practice of 
drinking it hot. Vanilla was usually added as a flavouring. 
Chocolate, as thus drunk by the ancient Mexicans, waa suo- 
cessful owing both to its aroma and to its fatty Lconstitucnts. It 
was known to be a nerve stimulant.i In modem times the 
fat is removed by the screw-press ; this and the addition of 
sugar render it more palatable. Henzoni (1519-1560) describes 
it as a drink more fit for pigs than for human beings ; LimuBoa 
named it Theohrmna (* food of the gwls '), Theobfufmaeaeao. It 
contains the same powerful alkaloid as the kola-nut. Aa a 
beverage in Western civilization it is only less important than 
coffee and tea. 

4. Other drinks. — Drinks prepared from roots 
are not numerous. Some have been incidentally 
referred to ; others are the liava of Polynesia, the 
paiwari of Guiana, and the misUa of the Mos- 
quitos. The root of the sweet potato {Batatas 
edulis) is occasionally used.' Paiwari and mishla 
are made from cassava (manioc), the root, or bread 
made therefrom, of the Manihot utdissima, which 
in another form is the tapioca of commerce. 

With mishla we approach a class of drinks which 
become pre-eminently social both in preparation 
and in use. One noteworthy detail reflects the 
characteristics of communal life, and also illus- 
trates the stage of culture in which the preparation 
of commodities is ad hoc, and storage and artificial 
production are at a minimum. Tliis is the fact 
that the communal drink is prepared only for 
special feasts, which are, however, frequent, and 
is all consumed. 

The mishla of the Mosquito region includes all kinds of strong 
drink, but particularly that prepared from cassava or manioc^ 
The famous kava of Polynesia and Melanesia is in many regions 
becoming obsolete, owing to the introduction of European 
drinks. The soma of the ancient Indians, and the identical 
haoTna of the ancient Parsis, are the most conspicuous examples 
of the communal drink becoming religious, and being apotheos- 
ized.4 Amxia, the nectar conferring immortality, was pro- 
duced, along with thirteen other valuable entities, from the 
churning of the milky ocean. It was, however, an unguent 
rather than a drink (see Akointinq [HinduJ).* The Homeric 
ambrosia was the food of immortality ; the nec/ar was the drink 
of the gods. Sappho and Anaxaudrides speak of ambrosia as a 
drink; it is also employed as an unguent like the Vedic amfta, 
Alcnian speaks of nectar as a food. Later, it waa a synonym 
for wine, and acquired the special connotation of fragrance. 
The Homeric nectar conferred immortality ; hence it was for- 
bidden to men. It was described as iavBpov, and, like Greek 
wine, was mixed with water. Apparently by etymology {rri and 
root of KTeiVu) its meaning is the same as that of ambrosia,^ 

5. Tendencies of evolution. — The evolution of 
taste is perhaps not altogether a sociological, but 
partly an ontogenic process. It is correlated with 
the evolution of manufacture. One or two ten- 
dencies may be observed. For example, man's 
drinks tend to the condition of water. Thus, 
many beverages of primitive peoples are prepared 
in a thick soup-like form. Chocolate, for example, 
was drunk very thick.' In Tibet and many 
Mongol districts tea is prepared with butter. 
Turkish coffee is characterized by the inclusion of 
grounds. English beer has passed from a muddy 
consistency to a sparkling clearness. The thick 
sweet character of p«/jHC resembles the inspissated 
must of Gra;co-Roman wine production. The 
ancient wine itself in its ordinary form was very 
thick, almost of the consistency of treacle, and 
probably for that reason it was generally drunk 
diluted with water. The sparkling nature of the 
best water has during the last century been sug- 
gested both in wines and in water by the method 
of eflervescence. First applied to the wines of 
Champagne, it was adopted for certain of the Rhine 

1 Payne, i. 380. ' Im Thum, 263, 268. 

» See H. A. WicUham, in JAI xxiv. 203 f., 206 f. 

4 J. EggeUng, in SBE xxvi. (1885), introd. ; Macdonell, 104, 
110 f. 

» Monicr-WiUiams, Br&hmanitm and Hindiiitm*, London, 
1891, p. 108. 

» Liddell-Scott, Gretk-English f^xicon', 1901, a.m. 

1 Ct. Wickham. in JAI xxiv. 207. 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



75 



vintages. The production of artificial mineral 
waters, in M'hicli an access of carbonic acid gas 
causes sparkling, is characteristic of the last half- 
century. One result of fermentation is thus ob- 
tained, without, in the case of mineral waters, any 
fermentation at all. 

Another tendency is towards the reduction of 
sweetness. Old wines in which no sugar is left 
have been preferred in recent centuries. Such, 
however, have a corresponding excess of alcohol. 
Dryness in modern wines is increasingly sought 
after. Thick, sweet drinks, like mead and malm- 
sey, are typical in barbarism, and in ancient and 
mediaeval cultvire. Malmsey, the French malvoisie, 
was originally a Greek wine, and carried on the 
tradition of the thick wines of ancient Greece. 
The Greeks themselves corrected sweetness by 
various methods, among them being the use of salt 
water. Savagery and barbarism had no lack of 
experiments in the production of varied flavours, 
if not of the correction of sweetness. 

The rice-beer of the Nagas U flavoured with jungle herba, such 
as Datura,^ while the neighbouring Qaros dilute theirs with 
water.2 The natives of the Moluccas correct the sweetness of 
their sagero by adding barks of a bitter flavour. The addition 
of hops to barley-beer gives it a tonic and more refreshing 
character. In old English life spices were largely used in both 
ale and wine. Mulled drinks were taken hot. 

A similar tendency, found very early in culture, 
is to be noted in the preference for sour milk. 

6. Animal drinks. — Drinks, other than milk 
and blood, produced from animal substance, are 
in the lower cultures not merely soups or broths, 
but actual beverages. The credit of the invention 
and use of the only animal spirit kno^vn to the 
world belongs to the Tatar tribes of Asia. Their 
koumiss, distilled from the milk of their mares, 
has been known since Greek times. 

Human milk is the natural food of the human 
infant. Though dili'ering in some important re- 
spects, the milk yielded by various animals is a 
satisfactory diet for children, and, especially in its 
products, a valuable food for adults. The use of 
mUch-aidmals was a great step towards civiliza- 
tion.' 

When Dayaka kill a pig or an ox, which is done to music and 
singing, they scramble for the blood. Men, women, and children 
drink of it ; they smear themselves all over with it, and behave 
like maddened animals, burying their faces in the bleeding car- 
casses.* Blood, in fact, is to the savage ' a perfectly natural 
food : scarcely less so, perhaps, than muk, which is nothing but 
blood filtered through a gland.' ^ 

7. Drinking^ customs and ideas. — The natural 
care bestowed upon the preparation of drinkables 
is guided and developed oy growing intelligence, 
and inspired at certain stages of culture by religious 
emotion. 

*The Hindu is very particular. as to the water he drinks. It 
must be ceremonially pure, though not necessarily chemically 
pure.' It has to he very carefully fetched. If the carrier 
touches or comes near an out-cnste or anything impure, the 
water is thrown away, and the vessel broken, or scoured with 
sand and water.^ The kings of ancient Persia had their drink- 
ing-water brought from particular rivers, especially the Zab.7 

Water, in Zoroastnanism, is sacred. It is a * dress for breath,' 
physiologically and physically. It is a sin to drink water in the 
dark, or to pour it away.8 Water is the * dark spirit ' ; for 
sacrifice it is more valuable than spirituous liquors.^ 
A good deal of myth has gathered about the 
palm-wine tree (Arenga saccharifera) in the East 
Indies. 

Many stories are told of how the Juice of the nut has brought 
the dead to life again. i^ The Oayaks of South-East Borneo 

1 Hodson, 60 f. ' Playfair, 62. » Payne, i. 290. 

« Tijdtehrijl voor Stderlandgch-lndie, L 1. (1828) 44. 

• Payne, i. 393. See, for further instances. New, East. Africa^ 
London, 1874, p. 397 ; Hollis, J/a«ot, Oxford, 1905, pp. 257, 817 f.; 
De Uoguet, Origin 0/ Laws, Edinburgh, 1761, ii., art. 3 : New, 
189 ; Joum. Ethn. Soc. i. (1869) 313; H. Ward, in JAI, xxiv. 292. 

• Padfleld, The Hindu at Hmns i, Madras and London, 1903, 
p. 41 L ; Dubois- Beauchamp, BiixdM Manners^, Oxford, 1906, 
p. 187. 

7 RatMl, iii. 401 , 8 SBB iv. (1896) Ixii., I. (1900) 74. 

• SUE xxiv. (1885) 202, xxvii. [1886] 435. 

" A. O. Kruilt, Uel animUrmt in Am ind. Arehip^l, The Hague, 
UKK), p. UO. 



figure palm-wine as milk, flowing from the tree as if from a 
woman. 1 The NIasers hold that a palm-tree planted by a woman 
yields more sap than one planted by a mah. A folk-tale runs 
that a woman after delivery, feeling she was about to die and 
not wishing her b&be to starve, cut off one of her breasts. Out 
of this grew the palm-wine tree.3 In Angkola a woman prayed 
to be turned into a tree. When she died, the Arenga tree came 
from her navel, the opium plant from iier forehead, the pisang 
from her feet, milk from her breasts.^ 

Besides the stimulating and expansive properties 
of wine and spirits, the process of fermentation has 
naturally engaged the popular mind. A good deal 
of superstition is, no doubt, to be referred to specu- 
lation upon this mysterious change. 

Among the Masai, 'when honey-wine is to be brewed, a man 
and a woman are selected for the purpose, neither of whom has 
had sexual intercourse for two days. A tent is set apart for 
them to live in until the honey-wine is ready for drinking (six 
days), during which time they may not sleep together. As soon 
as the honey-wine is nearly ready they receive payment, and go 
to their respective homes. Were they to have sexual inter- 
course during the six days that the honey-wine is brewing, it is 
believed that the wine would be undrinkable, and the bees that 
made the honey would fly away.'-* 

The ultimate reason for such a rule is probably 
merely an unconscious impulse towards concentra- 
tion of purpose and avoidance of anything that 
might divert attention. The prohibition is par- 
ticularly enforced in delicate operations. From 
the original impulse would develop ideas about the 
danger of mixing interests, no less than material ; 
and, later on, ideas of sympathetic influence, among 
which may be some comparison of the sexuju 
function with the process of fermentation. 

In old Mexico the men who prepared piUque might not touch 
women for four days previously ; otherwise the ' wine ' would 
go sour and putrid. 5 The brewing of beer (sheroo) is regarded 
by the Eacbins ' as a serious, almost sacred, task ; the women 
while engaged in it having to live in almost vestal seclusion.' 8 

In the Mexican example may be seen a possible 
explanation of the way in which a comparison of 
the processes of fermentation and of sex was 
applied. Mixing of personality has attached to 
itself various terms and ideas of ' impurity.' Simi- 
larly the ingestion of leaven has been regarded as 
resulting in an impure condition of the material 
acted upon. Leaven itself is a symbol of corrup- 
tion. Thus, an impure state in the persons engaged 
may induce a similar impurity in the object of their 
labours. Conversely, in other circumstances, it 
may expedite a desired change, as from barrenness 
to fertility. 

A similar objection to mixture may be seen in 
an Australian custom. If we compare with it the 
rule of the Timorese priest' which forbids him 
in war-time to drink cold water, and orders him 
to drink hot water only, so as not to cool the 
ardour of the warriors, we may see how a rule 
arising naturally from an aversion to anytliing 
exciting or disturbing, when important operations 
are in progress, may be sophisticated subsequently. 
The Australian case shows an earlier stratom of 
psychosis. 

"The Euahlayi people believe that, it a medtcine-man have 
many spirits in him, he must not drink hot or heating drinks. 
These would drive them away. Also, spirits would never enter 
a person defiled by the white man's ' grop. ' 8 The Zamt>esi rain- 
maker, in order to keep his spirits with him, never touches 
alcohol.9 

When the savaj^e has reached the idea of a 
spirit informing his own organism, he has usually 
also reached the idea that heating or spirituous 
licjuor is itself possessed of a spirit. Thus, if he 
wishes to concentrate the attention of his own 
spirit, he must, in sober earnest, refrain from mix- 
ing it with others. 

The care bestowed on the preparation of liquors 

1 Kruljt, 163. 2 Sundemiann, p. 412. 

» Kruijt, loc. cit. * A. O. Hollis, in JAI xl. 481. 

Sahagun, Uist. g^n&rale (Jourdanet-Simeon), Paris, 1891, 
p. 46. 

J. Anderson, Fr<nn Mandalay to Minnien, London, 1876, 
p. 138. 

7 H. O. Forbes, in JAI xili. (1884) 414. 

8 K. L. Parker, The Euahlayi Tribe, London, 1906, p. 48. 
> Miseions eatholiqties, xxvi. (1893) 266. 



7« 



DRINKS, DBINKINQ 



is also evidenced in the ceremonial handselling of 

Uiu new wiiio. . , ^ , .„„„ . 

Thus, an.oi.i; the U«i.an«, ttie iiriciit of the Eod IxUilton, a 
healer ol oliiUlrcn, invested with the god'i robM, opened tee 
new wine aimuallv in Oic liousesoJ the people. andMtemonially 
Uated it.1 New liquor i» made by the tJiga. at the leaet of 
lUtmniai in Januarj-. This ie a a'^na, ".oo^'O""' '*!'"• X 
men rarry their own wnter for the nce-becr, and dunn« the 
manufacture men and women eat separately.' 

From this ' tasting' develops the sacrifice of the 
Erst-friiits of the vine. Tliu llomans sacrificed the 
Hr.st of tlie new wine to Liber ; until this was done, 
the new wine might not be generally drunk.' 

The moshanism of drinking as practised by 
Earoi)eanR is more or less identical with that of 
eating. The liquid does not fall down the pharynx 
and oesophagu-s, but each gulp is gra.sped by the 
tongue and passed down. Thus a man is able to 
drink while standing on his head. Many peoples, 
however, either have not reached this method or 
have modified it.* 

The wild men of Malaysia drink by throwing the water from 
the hand into the mouth. The Orang Laut do this with un- 
erring aim, at a distance of more than a foot, without splashing. 
Even children are expert. A mother gives her infant water l)y 
dripping it from her hand. A New Hebrides native throws liis 
head back, an<l literally jiours the liquid down his throat without 
gulping. The ordinary drink in Oceania is the juice of the half- 
ripe coco-nut. The nut is held up and the juice allowed to fall 
into the mouth. It is unmannerly to touch the shell with the 
lips. The Lake Victoria tribes drink their beer through a tube.^ 
In the Hindu ritual of meals, food is eaten with the right hand, 
but water is drunk with the left ; the vessel is taken up with the 
left hand. The vessel must not touch the lips. It is held a little 
way above the upturned mouth, and the water is poured from 
it into the mouth. To allow the vessel to touch the lips would 
be indecent. The Fijians never put a vessel to the lips when 
drinking. They regard it also as objectionable for several per- 
sons to drink out of the same vessel. A Maori chief would not 
touch a calabash with his hands when drinking ; he held his 
hands close to his mouth, and another man, a slave, poured tlie 
water into them. It was a grave crime to let any one use a cup 
rendered sacred by having touched his lip8.6 

Muhammad forbade drinking water in a standing posture. 
Tliree breaths are to be taken before a draught, for the reason 
that thus the stomach is cooled, thirst ia quenched, and health 
and vigour are imparted. Drinking from the mouth of a leather 
liag was forbidden. ' He who drinks out of a silver cup drinks 
of hell-fire." The faithful may not drink out of green vessels, 
large gourds, or vessels covered with pitch, the last being used 
for wine. During the fast of Rama(}an it is held that even to 
swallow saliva between sunrise and sunset ts a Bin.7 

The natural tendency against mixing re-appears 
iu the custom of not eating and drinking at the 
same time. This is only partially identical with 
physiological law, since certain foods require 
a liquid vehicle, and certain drinks stimulate 
digestion. 

When eating rice the Malagasy drink water. But otherwise 
they rarely drink at meals.^ The Hindu does not drink until 
the meal is finished." The natives of Borneo usually drink only 
after they have flnishe<l eating. 'They contend that by ab- 
staining from taking liquid with their food they prevent 
Indigestion.' !» In liritish Central Africa the native drinks 
between meals, but chiefly water." The A-kikuyu never drink 
at meals, but drink at any time when thirsty." The Abyssinlans 
drink notliing at meals. I's 

Eating, especially in the somewhat rapid method 
used by early peoples, is hardly compatible with 
conversation ; hence many rules against eating 
and talking at the same time. Drinking does 
not lalxjur under this disability. When drink is 
alcoholic, tliere is still less restraint of the tongue. 
In 15th cent. England ' people did not hold con- 

1 Bancroft, NR, San Prancisoo, 1882, ill. 410. 2 Hodson, 171. 
' Festus, «.t». * Bacriina * ; Pliny, UN xviii. 8. 

* The ' lapping ' method of Gideon's three hundred (Jg T^f-) 
was not ' as a dog lappeth,' but consisted merely in uswg the 
hand as a cup. 

• Skeat-Blagden, Kagan Raeet, London, 1906, i. 110 f . ; Somer- 
viUe, in J^ / x«iiL 882 ; Ratzcl, 1. 269 ; Uohlev, 81. 

*Padfield>, 41; Dubois - Beauohamp, 188; Wilkes, U.S. 
Bxped., 184S-fi8, 111. 116 ; Sliorlland, .Southern Districts of Netc 
Zealatul, London, 1861, p. 293 ; Colenso, in Trans. New Zealand 
InttUule, 18«8, p. 4S. 

7T. I'. Hughes, Dt, tv. ' Drinkablea ' ; A. Ijcared, Koroeco 
and the Moors, lx>ndan, 1876, p. 204. 

> W. Ellis, Madagatear, i. 190-210. 

> Dubois.Beauchamp, 183. 

le HoM, in JAI xxiil. 100. » Stannus, JAI xl. S22. 

13 W. 8. Routledgo, WUh a Prt-Biltoric People, 61. 
l> Katzel, iii. 228. 



versation while eating, but the talk and mirtii 
began with the liquor. ' 

When existence, as in the middle stages of social 
evolution, is threaded -with superstition, methods 
of drinking and habits associated with drinking 
are either emphasized or inverted on special occa- 
sions which call for neculiar regard. As already 
suggested, it is probable that the ultimate psycho- 
logical reason for those tabus is merely the in- 
stinct for concentration and the exclusion of 
foreign and disturbing interests. Ideas of super- 
natural danger are developed later, in order to 
give an explanation of the instinctive rule. Pos- 
sibly the arbitrary prohibitions of 'individual' 
tabus are due to tlie same instinct ; at any rate, 
the observance of such prohibitions helps to form 
tlie sense of responsibility. 

On the Gold Coast, among individual tabus is the prohibition 
against drinking palm-wine on certain days of the week.2 
During a genna in January the Kabuis forbid young men to 
drink anything outside the house. On the occasion of the 
erection of a village monument the vilUgers may not use 
drinking-cups, but have to drink from leaves.^ Among indi- 
vidual tabus of the Bangala are, ' You must not drink native 
wine except through a reed, and never straight out of a vessel 
of any kind.'< The cook of the party on the hii-i, or trading 
expedition of the Massim, may not drink water, but only coco- 
nut milk.* A Massiiii sorceress drinks no water, but coco-nut 
milk only for eight days, by which time she is sacred and able 
to heal the sick. 6 In Celebes the priest who is responsible for 
the growth of the rice may not drink with any one or out of any 
person's cup.'' In S.E. Australia a visitor to another tril)0 was 
under certain restrictions for a time. He was allowed to drink 
muddy water, three mouthf uls on each occasion. He had U> drink 
these very slowly, or his throat would swell up.* The Thompson 
Indian girl, during the first tour days of her seclusion at puberty, 
drank water, while otherwise fasting, from a birch-bark cup 
painted red. She sucked up the liquid through a tube made of 
the leg of a crane or swan ; her lips were not allowed to touch 
the surface of the water. Subsequently she was permitted to 
drink from streams and springs, but even here she had still to 
use her tube, otherwise the spring or stream would dry up.» 
The Tlingit girl in the same condition had to drink through 
the bone of a white-headed eagle. i** 

On his first cam|)aign the North American brave was very 
sacred. Especially was it essential that no one should touch 
his eating and drinking vessels. When on the outward journey 
warriors drank from one side only of the bowl ; on the return, 
from the other. When within a day's march of home they 
hung their vessels on trees or threw them away.u In another 
account a functionary named elissu is mentioned. Hie duty 
was to hand to the warriors everything that they ate or drank ; 
they were not allowed to touch these themselves." 

Among the Tring Dayaks mourners may not drink ordinaiy 
water, but only water collected in the leaves of creepers. This 
is called 'soul-water.' '3 Before setting out on a trapping 
expedition, the Carrier Indian abstains from drinking out of 
the same vessel as his wife." In Chota Nagpur and the Central 
Provinces of India men abstain from alcohol and women when 
rearing silkworms.l'^ 

Tlie last case may be compared with tlie Masai 
tabu during the making of wine. There chastity 
is observed in order that the wine may not be 
spoiled. If the rea.son be that by magical ' sym- 
patliy ' a sexual proce.ss may taint the wine, that 
reason and any idea of the sympathetic action of 

1 T. Wright, Dotneslie Manners m England, LoDdon, U62, 
p. 896. 

2 O. H. Harper, in JAI ixxvi. 184 f. 

3 Hodson, 173, 182. * i. H. Weeks, in JAI xl. 366. 
» Seligmaun, 2'he itelanetians, etc., London, 1910, p. 102. 

6 Ilomilly, From my Verandah in New Guinea, London, 
1889, p. 94 f. 

7 Med. Nederl. Zendeliiig-Geiwotschap, xi. (1867) 126. 

8 Howitt, 403. 

STeit, hi Mem. Am. Mat. Nat. HUt. IL pt. iv. (1900) 
311-317 

10 I^iigsdorff, Reise um die Welt, Frankfort, 1813, ii. 114 ; ct, 
for similar instances from other peoples, Morice, in Prvc. Can. 
Intt. vii. (1889) l«2ff. ; Vaaci, Gil' iii. 215, quoting Schom- 
burgk and von Martins; O. Hamilton and J. Rae, in JAI vii. 
(1878) 2(16 f.; O. Dawson, "Tlie Haida Indians,' in GeoUig. Survey 
of Canada, App. A, p. 181 ; Guis, in Missions catholiquet, xxx. 

/'«ttntt\ 119 

11 Narrative o/ John Tanner, N. Y. 1830, p. 122 f. 

IS. I. Adair, UiH. o/ the Ameriean Indians, Ixmdon, 1776, 
p. 380; cf., for further instances, Fra«cr, GJi^ i. 881, quoting 
Uourke, and i. 342, quoting Boas; D. Kidd, The Btsenttal 
Ki'fir, London, 1904, p. 309 f.; 8. Heame, Jourwy . . . to Ote 
Northern Ocean, London, 1796, p. 204 ; F. Uussell, in t6 BBBW 
(1908), p. 204 f. 

" Kruijt, -282. 

14 A. O. Morice, In IVon». Canad. Inst. iv. (1892) 107. 

15 yiidian Museum Notes, Calcutta, 1890, i. 3, p. 160. 



DRINKS, DRINKINa 



77 



alcohol on the lai-vae can hardlj^ apply to the Chota 
Nagpur tabu. Some explanation more in accord- 
ance witii the evolution of mintl seems to be 
required. 

In the following, ideas of sympathetic adaptation 
appear : 

During Uie preliminary ceremonies for making rain among 
the Arunta no water may be drunk, else the magic would fain 
— no doubt because of the premature use of liquid. So in Java, 
when proceedings are taken to prevent the fall of rain, the 
person interested may not drink anything while the ceremonies 
are in progress,- otherwise the rain would at once commence, 
CJonrerBely, medicine-men sometimes drink, and generally culti- 
rate webiess, when making rain. 

Permanent caution in the act of drinking is 
often found in the case of important persons, and 
sometimes it is a social habit. Africa is remark- 
able for such observances. 

In the Congo State 'there is hardly a native who would dare 
to swallow a liquid without first conjuring the spirits. One of 
them rings a bell all the time he is drinking ; another crouches 
down and places his left hand on the earth ; another veils his 
head ; another puts a stalk of grass or a leaf in his hair, or 
marks bis forehead with a line of clay. This fetish custom 
assumes very varied forms. To explain them, the black is 
satisfied to say that they are an energetic mode of conjuring 
spirits.* When a chief drinks he rings a bell at each draught : 
and at the same moment a boy brandishes a spear in front of 
him, ' to keep at bay the spirits which might try to sneak into 
the old chief's body'by the same road as the massanga (beer).' ^ 

When the king of Loango * has a mind to drink, he has a cup 
of wine brought ; he that brings it has a bell in his hand, and, 
as soon as he has delivered the cup to the king, he turns his 
face from him and rings the bell, on which all present fall 
down with their faces to the ground, and contitme so till the 
king has drunk.' The king would die if he were seen in the 
act of drinking.^ When Winwood Reade offered the king of 
Canna a glass of rum, the monarch hid his face and the glass 
onder a towel. ^ When the king of Dahomey drinks in public, 
a curtain is held up to conceal him. Bowdich describes the 
scene when the king of Ashanti drank wine ; music played, 
and the soldiers, brandishing their swords with the right hand, 
covered their noses with the left, singing meanwhile the 
monarch's victories and titles, as he drank behind an extem- 
porized curtain. A man of consequence never drinks before his 
inferiors without hiding his face. It is said in Ashanti that an 
enemy can most easily impose a spell on the faculties of his 
Ticttm when drinking. A son of the king of Congo was put to 
death for having accidentally seen his father driuk. A Pongo 
chief never drinks in the presence of others except behind a 
acreen.6 When the king of Unyoro in Central Africa went to 
the royal dairy to drink milk, the men dispersed and the 
women covered their heads. No one might see him drink. A 
wife handed hfm the milk-bowl, but turned her face away. 7 
The Thompson Indiana believe that enemies can injure a man 
by magic when he drinks.^ A Warua when drinking holds a 
doth before his face. The habit is particularly strong in the 
presence of a woman. * I bad.' says Cameron, ' to pay a man 
to let me see him drink ; I could not make a man let a woman 
see him drink.'9 

In these cases the development takes the form of 
a real, though secondary, sense of modesty. Von 
den Steinen found in Central Brazilian tribes a 
sense of modesty, attended by shyness and blush- 
ing, exhibited when alimentary functions were in 
progress, a sense as keen aa that shown by the 
majority of the human race in the matter of 
sexual functions.*** In similar rules cited below 
there may be seen not merely habits of etiquette, 
but a sense of modesty and a law of decency, 
involving the fear of exciting disgust. The idea 
that sueli practices hinder the entrance of evil 
influences, or prevent the soul from escaping," is 
a later sophistication, and cannot explain their 
origin. 

1 F. J. Oillen, In Horn Sci. Exped. to CmtnU AuttratUi, iv. 
0809) 177 ft.; Spencer- OiUen*, ISOff. 

* Q. O. Batten, Glimpsei of the Eastern Archipelago, Singapore, 
ISM.p. 6Sf. 

s ColUetions ethnographiqms du Mttsie du Congo, Brussels, 
190e-«, p. 164, quoted by Frazer, 0B», pt. ii. (1911) p. 120. 

4 Tnmr, GB*. pt. iL p. 117 f.. quoting authorities. 

» W. Reade, Savage Africa, Ixmdon, 1863, pp. 184, 543. 

« J. L. Wilson, Western Africa, I^ndon and N-Y. 1850, pp. 
802, ?0e, 310 ; R. Burton, Mvtsitm to Dahonw., London, 1864, i. 
244 ; Reade, 53; Bowdich, Misrion to Ashantee, Ix)ndon, 1873, 
pp. 438, 382. 

' Frazer, GB^, pt. ii. p. 119, quoting Roscoe. 

8 Teit, in Amer. Mu$. Nat. l/ist. i. (1900) 360. 

9 Cameron, in J AI ri. (1876) 173. 

JOR. T. den Hteinen, UrUer den Naturvdlkem Zentral-Bra- 
MUiena, Berlin, 1894. 
" Frazer, 0B», pt. il. p. 120. 



When the Indian of Cape Flattery falls ill, he often ascribes 
it to a demon which entered his body when he was drinking at 
a stream. 1 Bulgarians before drinking make the sign of the 
Cross, to prevent the devil entering the body with the drink.^ 
Devout Russians used to blow on the glass to drive Satan from 
the liquor.3 Conversely, the soul may be tempted to remain, 
though the mouth is dangerously open, by offering it a share 
in the beven^e. When the hair of the Siamese boy is cut, 
there is a danger lest the kvmn, the guardian spirit of the 
head, may depart. It is enticed and captured ; then coco-nut 
milk is presented to it. This is drunk bj' the boy, and thus by 
absorbing the drink of the kwun he retains the kvmn itself.* 

Rules of drinking, more or less impregnated with 
superstition, occur all over the world. 

In Wetar it is a serious offence to use a chief's drinking-cup.!* 
A Maori who drank from the cup of a man who wished him ill 
became bewitched.** The Niam-niam, who are said to be 
'particular at their meals,' that is, to observe alimentary 
decency, wipe the rim of a cup before passing it on.7 Great 
care was taken by the Fijians that no one should touch the 
king's cupbearer. They regarded it as objectionable for several 
persons to drink out of the same vessel, and held that pollu- 
tion was carried by saliva.** The civilized man has the same 
instinct of isolation and of excluding foreign elements from his 
drinks. 

Contact with particular persons is avoided. 
According to the rules of Katfir hlonipa, relatives of a husband 
will not drink milk at any kraal connected with the wife, nor 
will the wife's rclalivea at a kraal connected with the husband. 
For some time after marriage the wife will not use milk. The 
principle is that she was paid for with cattle, and would be 
insita (' defiled ') if she consumed her own purchase. After a 
visit to her father, from whom she brings a goat or an ox, the 
tabu is removed. The animal is slain, and the 'defilement' 
passes from the milk into the animal. She has 'cleaned her 
spoon.' 9 

In the above case we have probably little more 
than a phase of etiquette. In others there is a 
distinct fear of contamination resulting in various 
conceptions of real or imaginary injury. 

In Tonga, inferior persons might not drink in the presence of 
superiors,!" and the various ' ranks ' could not drink together.i* 
In India, water cannot be accepted by hi^h-caste from low- 
caste persons.!" Even Pahariahs will not drink with Keriahs.iS 
Among the Nagas, with whom village feuds are frequent, one 
village may often be found refusing to drink from a running 
stream which supplies another.!"* New Guinea natives refused 
to drink water offered to them by Europeans. !5 

In cases like the last there is perhaps no definite 
conception, merely a vague uneasiness about the 
unfamiliar. A similar sensitiveness occurs in the 
case of unfamiliar or untested drinks. 

When the Eskimo find a new spring, an antjekok, or the 
oldest man present, drinks of it first to rid the water of any 
tomgarsuk, or malignant quality which might make them ill.!^ 
Similar ideas are connected with the hospitable practice of 
' tasting,* though it is not clear that they are the primary 
reason of the custom.!'' At palm-wine drinkings the Kruman 
hostess takes the first and last drink herself, in order to * take 
off the fetish.' 1** The same notion may be involved in the cere- 
monial tasting by an official of the new wine and the new 
fruits. !9 In Eastern Central Africa, at beer-drinkinga given hy 
the chief, the priest or 'captain' of the chief tastes the liquor, 
to show the guests that it Is not poisoned. 20 New Guinea natives 
taste the water they offer to a stranger, to prove that it is free 
from poison. -1 Among the Zulus it is not etiquette to offer l>eer 
to any one without first tasting it.22 

Drinking with a woman is avoided by many 
peoples in various stages of evolution. Tlie Beni- 
Harith would not take drink from the hands of a 

' J. O. Swan, in Smithsonian Contributions, Washington, 
xvi. (1870)77. 

2 Sinclair-Bropby, A Residence in Bulgariat London, 1877, 
p. 14. 

3 G. A. Erman, Siberia, London, 1848, i. 416. 

* E. Young, The Kingdom of the Yellow Robe^ Westminster, 
1898, p. 64 f. 
Riedel, 465. 
8 J. S. Polack, New Zealand, I^ndon, 1838, i. 263, 280. 

7 O. Schweinfurth, The Heart of Africa^, 1874, ii. 19. 

8 Wilkes, iii. 115, S49. 

9 D. Leslie, Among the ZxUus and Ainatongas^, Edinburgh, 
1875, pp. 173, 196. 

10 D'Urville, Voyagepittoresqueautourdumonde, Paris,18S4-5, 
ii. 77. 

" W. Mariner, The Tonga Islands^ Edinburgh, 1827, ii. 234. 

12 Monier-Willianis. 45a 

18 V. Ball, Jvngle Life in India, London, 1880, p. 89. 

14 Hodson, 8. 

15 H. von Rosenberg, Der nialayische Arckipel, Leipzig, 1878, 
p. 478. 

!6 II. Egede, Descript. of Greenland^, I^ndon, 1818, p. 185 ; 
D. Crantz, Hist, of Greenland, London, 1820, i. 193. 
17 See below. 1« J. L. Wilson, 124. i» See above. 

20 1). Macdonald, Afrieana, London, 1882, i. 191. 
« Von Rosenberg, 47a aa D. Leslie, 205. 



78 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



woman on any consideration.' An artificial horror 
is tteneratcd in siicii cases. The Mu.skliogeans 
held it eq\iiv«lent to adultery that a man should 
take a pitcher of water from the head of a married 
woman. It wa-s permissible for him to drink if 
the woman removed the pitclier herself, and re- 
tired after setting it on the ground." Kollowing 
another line of thought, the Arunta hold that a 
draught of woman's blood will kill the strongest 

man.' 

AmoDg the Kaffirs and the Bahima a menstruating woman 
may not drink milk ; It she does, the cows will be Injured. 
She is restricted to beer.^ At his daug:htcr'8 first period, how- 
ever, a Kaffir father sets apart an old cow for her exclusive use, 
and its milk constitutes her only food.' After being delivered, 
the Greenland mother observes tabus. She has a water-pail 
for her own use ; if any one else drinks from this, the rest must 
be thrown away.** Piiny mentions the belief that, if a men- 
stnious woman touches wine, it turns to vineffar.7 * In various 
ports of Europe it is still believed that if a woman in her courses 
enters a brewery the beer will turn sour ; if she touches beer, 
wine, vinegar, or milk, it will go bad.' In Calymnos a men- 
struous woman ' may not go to the well to draw water, nor 
cross a running; stream, nor enter the sea. Her presence in a 
boat is said to raise storms.'^ 

On the face of these customs and ideas there is a 
regard both for the woman's own safety and for 
that of others. She is rendered harmless by being 
insulated, and at the same time is removed from 
danger." It has been further suggested, for the 
explanation of similar cases, that any taint of 
sexual functions may injure the milk of cows, and 
that the sympathetic link between the milk and 
the cow may be snapped by any process which 
converts tlie milk into another substance, such as 
curds. Members of the ' sacred world ' may there- 
fore use these substances without injuring their 
source.'" On this principle the AVanyamwesi 
practice of mixing vaccine or human urine with 
milk has for its object the safeguarding of the 
source." 

The Jbala of Northern Morocco believe that a 
murderer is permanently unclean. ' Poison oozes 
out from underneath his nails ; hence anybody 
who drinks the water in which he has washed his 
hands will fall dangerously ill.''' Among the 
Zulus a wounded man may not touch milk till a 
ceremony lias been performed." 

The sources of contamination dangerous to 
drinkables are almost universally the same. There 
are some variations, as perhaps the law of Muham- 
mad that a vessel from whidh a dog has drunk is 
to be washed seven times bef (Jre it is used by human 
beings.'* x 

A universal source of contamination is death. 

After a death the Zulus drink no milk for a day ; the mourners 
not for some time. Widows and widowers apparently are 
permanently forbidden its use.is A Nandi who has handled a 
corpse may not drink milk until he has been purified. '6 The 
D^ai who has touched a corpse has to drink out of a special 
gourd. 17 In the same circumstances the Thompson Indian has 
to spit out the first four mouthfuls whenever he drinks.l8 

For the classification of the various magical 
properties of drinks the Zulu theory is instructive. 
But neither here nor elsewhere can a line be drawn 
between inherent and acquired characteristics. 
The Zulus logically distinguish between two 
complementary species of magical drinks. Tliese 
are ' black ' and ' white,' negative and positive. 
The former removes, for instance, everything that 

1 W. R. Smith, Kinthip and Marriage in Early Arabia, 
London, 1885, p. 812. 
a Adair, 143. s p. j. Gillen, toe. eil. iv. 182. 

• J. Haodonald, in JAI xx. (1801) 188. 

• Roaooe, in JA'l xxxvii. (1907) 107. 

• H. Kgede, 196. ' HJ^Tvil. 64t, xxviil. 77fr. 

• Frazer, GB" ill. 232 1, quoting authorities. » lb. 

10 Frazer, in AnUirop. EuaytpreienUd to E. B. Tvtor, Oxford 
1907, p. 163 1. ' 

" n. n Westcrniarck, MI i. 378. 

UN. Isaacs, quoted by Frazer, In Anthrop. Essays, 168. 
M Hughes, DJ, t.v. ' Drinkables.' 
" Frazer. In Anlhrop. Bssayt, 160 f. 
M A. 0. Hollis, The Nandi, Oxford, 1009, p. 70. 
>' a Hill-Tout, Tin Far Vat, London, 1907, p. 193 f. 
uifelt, Amtr. Hut. Sat. Bitt, 1900, p. 8819. 



causes a man to be disliked ; the latter eives him 
' brightness,' and produces liking and admiration 
in others. The former is emetic in its operation. 
The ejected matter is placed in the fire ; thus the 
'badness' is consumed. The white drink, when 
used, for instance, to command the affections of a 
girl, or to conciliate a great man, should contain 
some object that the person referred to has worn 
next the skin.' 

Drinks of the first class have the properties of 
liquids when used for washing ; those of the second 
have the positive qualities, stimulant or nutritive, 
which drinks share with food and drugs. A 
distinction is clearly to be drawn between the 
latter class and drinks which have been con- 
taminated by alien or dangerous substances. 

Just as mythology developed the generic idea of 
drink into a water of life or of immortality, so it 
has developed the idea of cleansing into a water of 
oblivion. The 'Drink of Forgetf nlness ' is found 
in Greek, Hindu, Norse, and other mythologies.* 

In Fijian mythology the spirit of the dead man on his way to 
the other world drinks of a spring. As soon as he tastes the 
water, he ceases weeping, and his friends at home cease weep- 
ing, forgetting their sorrows. This savage Water of Lethe is 
called the Wai-ni-dula, the 'Water of Solace.' ' The Fijian 
idea is significant when compared with certain ceremonial 
drinking which terminates mourning. Among the Kacharis of 
Assam an elder distributes to the mourners ' the water of peace,' 
santi jal ; the drinking of this terminates the mourning.* The 
Kathkars effect ' iiurification * after birth or death by means of 
water touched by a Brahman.' In South India holy water is 
drunk to terminate mourning. In Roman Catholic ritual a sick 
man drinks water in which the priest has washed his hands.6 
At the end of mourning the Kaffir widow rinses her mouth with 
fresh milk.7 Clmco Indians ' purify * themselves after a funeral 
by drinking hot water and washing themselves,^* cleansing thus 
both the outer and the inner man. In Central Africa the 
possessing spirit is driven out of a man by drinking an intoxicant. 
The Goiptls believe they purity themselves by drmking spirits." 
Among the Oraons a man is re-admitted to caste after he has 
drunk the blood of a goat to wash away his sin. 10 When the 
Bijapur Bedars re-admit an adulteress, they touch her lips with 
a red-hot twig of Asclepias gigantea, and give her liquor to 
drink. 11 In Mexico during the * bad days,' which recurred every 
four years, children were made to drink spirits. ^2 

In these and similar cases there is a preference 
for ' strong ' water, whether it be hot or spirituous, 
or blood, or containing some added virtue. It is 
difficult, therefore, always to distinguish ' purifica- 
tion ' from the ingestion of virtue or Tnana. Many 
magical drinks certainly have both negative and 
positive properties. This is the case, whether 
literally by acquisition or metaphorically by 
imagination, with water itself. 

The Musalman Nawab of Savanur drank Ganges water only, 
not from piety, but because of its medicinal properties. The 
water of which a Brahman sips thrice before a meal is ' Vishnu's 
feet-water.' The Kenaras drink water in which the priest has 
washed his feet.'* In early England a cure for demoniac 
possession was water dnmk out of a church-bell.l* 

From this a-spect drinks are suitable for purposes 
of consecration and institution. Their virtue gives 
a vigorous set-off in the new state. 

In old Scandinavia the new king drank a horn of liquor before 
taking his seat on the throne.'' European monarchs after 
coronation take the Sacrament. So in Catholicism do married 
couples. Interesting variants are the following. In Avestan 
times the first food given to the new-born child was the haoma- 
juice.16 Anionfj the Tshi peoples the father gives his son a name 
by squirting nnn from his mouth upon him. Rum is poured 
out on the ground for the ancestors on the same occasion. ^7 



1 H. Callaway, Rd. System o/ the Amazulu, Natal, 1868, 

2 W. brooke, FL ix. (1898) 121 ; Dasent, Tales from the Fjeld, 
I^ndon, 1874, p. '71 ; M. Frere, Old Deccan Days, London, 1868, 
p. 143. 

» B. H. Thomson, in J AT xxiv. 362. 

* Frazer, Totemism and Exogamy, 1910, iv. 298. See below. 
» J. M. Camrbell, in I A xxiv. (1896) 30. 
8 76. p. 68 ; Golden Manual, p. 721. 

7 H. Lichtcnsttin, TraveU tn Southern AJriea, Eng. tr., 
London. 1812-16, p. 269. 
» Gnibb, 168. ' Campbell, in I A xxiv. 80. 

10 Mem. As. Soc. Beng. L (1906) 167. 

11 BG xxiii. 04. '" Bancroft, iii. 376. 

13 Campbell, (IK. cit. 29 f. U Tylor, Pd, 1891, ii. 140. 

"> 1>. H. Mallet, Northern Antiquities, London, 1770, p. 196. 
J6 SBE V. (18S0) 322. 
17 Ellis, Tshitpeakinti PeopUt, London, 1887, p. 283. 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



Td 



When a child is received into the Kok-ko of the Zuni, his 
•godfather" drinks 'holy water' and gives it to the child to 
drink. This godfather acts as a sponsor, and takes the vows 
in place of the child. 1 These customs explain themselves. 

As part of his initiation the Southern Massini boy drinks salt 
water mixed with unripe man^o-flesh. He bathes in the sea, 
and drinks some sea-water. Then he drinks some coco-nut 
milk. Whatever the meaning of these drinks, they plaj' a 
considerable part in the process of man-making.s In savage 
pubertal ceremonies milk is sometimes drunk in connexion 
with a pretended new birth. Ancient religion had this fiction. 
After the new birth of the taurobolium {q.v.) the initiate was 
fed on milk, like a new-lxim babe.s 

Ideas of invigoration are one of the most obvious 
reactions to the etlect of strong drinks. ' Dutch 
courage ' has been an important factor in history. 
At a ceremony previous to war the Tobelorese give 
their headmen palm-wine outside the temple. 
After drinking the wine the generals run seven 
times round the temple.'' This custom is possibly 
a naive way of inspiring the leaders of the people. 
Ancient cla-ssical authors give several accounts of 
races whose practice it was to go into battle drunk. 

* It is extremely probable that the funeral sacrifice of men 
and animals in many cases involves an intention to vivify the 
spirits of the deceased with the warm, red sap of life.' 5 "The 
shades in Ha^ies renew their life by drinking blood.6 'The offer- 
ing of a drink is a frequent method of animating a fetish, and 
is thus analogous to the use of drink as an institutional rite. 
The Tshi negro squeezes rum upon his new-made suhman, 
8a>ing ' Eat this and speak.'' 

In metaphor and mythology drink plays a more 
considerable part than food. From similes like 
' as cold water to a thirsty soul ' ' to the metaphor- 
ical descrijjtion of Spinoza as ' a God-into.xicated 
man,' all the psychical reactions of drinks are 
expressed in language. 

In religion tne story of wine constitutes a 
distinctly ideal element, and it is here that the 
function of drink receives not only a sort of 
apotheosis, but perhaps a sound physiological 
explanation. 

The Vedic gods were originally mortal ; immortality was 
acquired by, among other methods, the drinking of soma.^ 
Similarly the Homeric gotls attained immortality by drinking 
nectar and eating ambrosia.^'' In the mythology of ancient 
Babylonia, Hasisadra brought into the ark a supply both of 
beer and of vnne.l* According to the Mexicans, the first human 
beings created by the g'xis fed on putqu£.^^ 

The sociological significance of orgiasticism has 
not yet been studied. 

' Wine or spirituous liquor inspires mysterious 
fear. The abnormal mental state which it produces 
suggests the idea that there is something super- 
natural in it, that it contains a spirit, or is perhaps 
itself a spirit.'" The Siamese, intoxicated by the 
spirit arrack, says he is possesse<l by the 'spirit,' 
in the Aninii.stic sen.se, of the liquor.'* Thus the 
juice of the grape is the blood of the vine, its soul 
or life. 'The drinking of wine in the rites of a 
vine-god like Dionysus is not an act of revelry, it 
is a solemn sacrament.' " 

Some typical cases of tlie religions and social 
uses of strong drink remain to be mentioned. No 
attempt is made to dctine stages of evolution. 
The earliest Brahmanism used spirituous liquors 
in acts of worship. Arrack was oflered to the gods. 
The Sautrdmani and Vdjapeya rites were typical 
for the drinking of surd, and the soma rite was in 
celebration of the soma itself. The later Vedas 
prohibited the worshipper from drinking the 
ceremonial liquor for a sensual purpose. The 
S&ktas today have actually the same principle, 
and purify the liquors before worship." The 
followers of Zarathushtra have clung to the old 

1 Stevenson, in S RBE W (1887), p. 653. ' Seligmann, 496. 

• Fnammta Phil. Grcee. (ed. Mullach, Paris, 1860-81) lii. 33. 

* Kruljt, 409. » Westermarck, MI i. 475. 

• Homer, Od. xi. 163. 

' Hlia, Tthi-npeaking Peoptet, 100 f. 8 Pr 26». 

» Macdonell, 17. "> /i. v. 339 ff. , Od. v. 199. 

u O. Smith, Itttt. of Babylonia (ed. Sayce, London, 1895), 
p. 41. 
» Bancroft, IH. 317. " Westermarck, Ml 11. .344. 

"Tylor, PC», ii. 181. 

" Tmer, OB'l. 3B8f., il. 3«6, 0B», pt. ii. p. 248. 
>• R&]endralala Mitra, I. 307. 4U7 1., 417 tf. 



way more consistently than the Hindus. Liquor- 
drinking forms part of almost all Parsi ceremonies 
to-day. Liquor is specially consecrated on New 
Year's Day.^ 

Tlie Eucharist in its early form has the mark of 
a periodic wine-drinking, breaking up the 'fast' 
of work-a-day life. It was necessary for organizers 
like St. Paul to prohibit excess^ — a fact which 
shows tliat wine was freely taken. The wine 
represented the blood of Christ and conferred 
immortality. In the course of history the use of 
wine has been denied to others than the celebrant, 
and in Churches which allow all worshippers to 
partake of the chalice the wine is not drunk but 
tasted. The Hebrew Cup of Blessing is an analogue 
of the Christian wine of the Eucharist. The early 
Christians made a free communal use of the sacred 
drink ; it was given to the dead ; vials of it were 
placed in the grave, with cups inscribed with toasts, 
such as ' Drink and long life ! ' ' 

For very special oB'erings to a god the Bhils 
make Icuvari, ' virgin liquor.' The distillers in 
this ca-ie must bathe and wear newly washed 
clothes before commencing operations.* 

For special purposes, other than inspiration, a 
priest may become intoxicated. On certain days 
the high priest of the Zapotecs was obliged to be 
drunk. On one of these he cohabited with a 
Virgin of the Sun." 

Gods reflect in an intensified form the ideals and 
habits of their worshippers. If a god is housed, 
clothed, and fed, he is also supplied with drinks. 

A difficult problem is presented by various 
customs of eating the dead. Their discussion 
belongs elsewhere ; but they show variation even 
in the case of drinking. 

The Cocomas of the Amazons ground the bones of their dead 
to powder and drank tliis in their beer. They said 'it was 
better to be inside a friend than to be swallowed up by the cold 
earth. '0 The Ximanas mingled the ashes of the dead with their 
drink. 7 Here there can be no survival of cannibalism. The 
Angoni make the ashes of the dead into a broth. This must be 
lapped up with the hand, and not drunk in the ordinary way,** 
The native practice, generally confined to the women, of drink- 
ing some of the fiuids drawn from the decaying body of a dead 
relative is a commonplace of Australian anthropology. 

As a preliminary to the problem may be 
mentioned the frequent occunence of morbid 
perversions of appetite in cases of strong emotion. 
If such perversion be applied to a psychosis of 
affection or respect, the Australian and similar 
practices are more easy to understand. 

The Irish wake is a familiar example of the practice of drink- 
ing to celebrate death. In West Africa the Tshi people drink 
heavily during the fast which follows a death, and the mourners 
are generally intoxicated. 9 The same is the case among the 
Yorubas.iO But it is chiefly after the funeral that drinking is 
the rule of the feast. 

At funerals among the Woolwa Indians there is much drink- 
ing of minhla. A long line of cotton is stretched, like a telegraph 
wire, from the house of the dead, where the drinking takes 
place, to the burial-ground where the body has been deposited. 
' I have seen the white thread following the course of the river 
for manj' miles, crossing and re-crossing the stream several 
times.' 11 As soon as a Bangala man dies, the family gets in 
large supplies of sugar-cane wine. Dancing and drinking are 
carried on for three or four days and nights, or until the wine 
is finished. 12 The Guiana Indians drink and dance at the funeral 
feast. 13 

Among the Tshinyai of the Zambesi the native beer, jiambe, 
plays a considerable part in post-funeral rites. For the ceremony 
of Bona, a large quantity is prepared. Holes are bored above 
the grave and pombe Is poured in. In one hole, in front of the 
house where the grave is, the mourners wash their hands witii 
pombe. As the procession retires, a widow of the deceased (she 
is called musimo, the spirit), her head covered with calico, 
constantly calls out for pombe, which she drinks beneath the 

I J. M. Campbell, in I A xxiv. 819. « 1 Co lisoir.. 

8 Smith, I)B ii. 142 ; Smith-Cheetham, DCA i. 40, 253, 308, 
635, 732, ii. 1434. 
* Campbell, loc. eit. 820. » Bancroft, ii. 142. 

« O. R. Markham, in JAI xl. 05. 7 lb. 132. 

8 J. Macdonald, in JAI xxii. (1893) 111. 

9 A. B. Ellis, Tshi'gpeakinn People, '239. 

10 Ellis, Yoruba-speaking Peoples, London, 1894, p. 166. 

II Wickham, in JAI xxiv. 207. 

12 J. H. Weeks, J A I xl. 380. >» Im Thum, 226. 



80 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



ooTCTinff, At tks bouM oi Uw head widow a Iuk< bole ia dug 
and wall aement«d. Tbia ia fliled with jHrniia, and every one 
Haa down and drinka it without help of spoon or veaael. A feaat 
loUoWB, oouaiating of pvmbe and meat.^ 

Various consiilerations, some of wliicli are sup- 
plied in the aViovo-citcd cases, sn^'gest tliat drinking 
at funerals and their anniversaries is motivated by 
a double impulse, or rather by two complementary 
impulses, namely, the desire to stifle sorrow, and 
the desire to give the dead a share in the good 
things of the world to which they still belong, 
though absent in the body. These two expressions 
of feeling, coupled with the ' sympathy ' shown by 
the community, render funeral drinking a typical 
case of social instinct. Secondary ideas necessarily 
anpervene. 

The universal employment of a drink of fellow- 
ship to institute and also to terminate a social 
process is found in the case of pubertal ceremonies, 
though rarely. The reason is that, in this case, 
the process does not include a pair of persons. In 
the case of marriage and covenants this essential 
condition of a social act is patent. It may be said 
that the reciprocal process in the former class is 
between the novice and the members of the social 
state to which he is admitted. And in many 
analogous cases this is recognized, though the mind 
in its more primitive stages is slow to recognize by 
concrete expression such abstract ideas as that of 
community. But in these stages the other member 
of the couple may be found in the ' godfather ' or 
sponsor, on the one hand, and individual members 
either of the same or of the other sex, the latter 
being the indirect objective of the initiation. Thus 
among many early peoples the boys after initiation 
drink with the girls. Similar ceremonies are per- 
formed in connexion with the sponsor. After initia- 
tion the A-kamba youth makes honey-beer, and 
gives it to the elder who looked after him during 
the ceremonies.' At the end of the ntonjane, the 
Kaffir ceremony performed to celebrate a girl's 
arrival at puberty, the girl's nearest female relative 
drinks milk, and then hands the bowl to the girl 
to drink.' From such practices there may easily 
develop ideas of tabu, which is to be ended by 
drinking or other rite of passage. Thus, in Central 
Australia the man whose blood has been taken to 
supply ajiother with health or strength is tabu to 
him until he releases him from the ' ban of silence ' 
by ' singing over his mouth.' * 

Marriage is universally the occasion of a social 
feast, and the rite in which the bridal pair drink 
together is one of the most prevalent methods of 
tying the knot. There is thus both individual and 
social drinking at weddings. Sometimes the latter 
is not shared by the marrying parties ; sometimes 
the individual drinking rite is extended to rela- 
tives ; and sometimes it is carried oat by them as 
sponsors for the bride and bridegroom. Naturally 
there is considerable variation in the ritual of the 
act of union. 

At; Tipperah wedding:8 the bride receives a Klass of liquor 
from her mother. She laltcs this to the bricle(froom, sits on his 
knee, and, after drinliing some of the liquor, gives the rest to 
him." Among the Kaffirs, milk from the bridegroom's cows is 
proented to the bride. Her drinkinsr of this milk renders the 
marriage complete, and the tie indissoluble. The Kuests exclaim, 
•She dnnks the milk ! She has drunk the mflkl'8 Among 
the Nakri Kunbis of Thana, liquor is given to the pair when 
the weddmg ceremony is completed.' The girl relatives of the 
Kfayoungtha bnde lar the entrance to the village against the 



1 h. Decle, in SaI xxiu. 421. For further instances, „^ 
Stannua, in JAI xl. 315; de Oroot, Rel. System of China. 
I*yden, ISOSB., I. 7», 141; W. Munzinger, Ostafr. Studim, 
Schallhauaen, 1864, p. 473 ; J. Perham, in JltAS, Straits branch, 
JSi' Fo^'- Lk • ^'"f ^°>^ Xative, of Saravak, London, 
1806, L 208S. ; Sheane, m y.ii xxxvi. 163. 

» Hobley, 76. 

» O. McO. Theal, Kafir FoOc-Ion, I/>ndon, 1882, p. 210 

4 Spcnccr-Oillcn », 462. 

,J.J- ^^J^"^'"' *•'** ■"<«** (^ South-EatUm India, London, 
1870, p. 202. 

• Lichtenatein, 1. 262. 7 BO xiil. 128. 



bridegroom with a bamlxK). Across this ho has to drink with 
them a ' loving-<:up of fraternity ' before he ia allowed to enter.i 
At weddinga in Morocco the priest hands to the pair a oup of 
wine which be haa blcaaed. When l>uth tiare drunk of it, the 
glaaa la dashed to the ground by the bridegroom, with a ' covert 
meaning that he wishes they may never be parted until the glaaa 
again beoomea perfect.'" In the Manuahiki Islands the |irieat 
glvee the man a oooo-nut containing its milk. The man drinka, 
and the woman after him.^ Among the Larkaa, a oup of beer 
ia given to each of the two parties ; they mix the beer, and 
then drink it. This completes the niarriage.^ In the Molucoaa, 
Japan, Bengal, Brazil, Hussiaj Scandinavia, and many districta 
of Kurope, tho bridal pair drink, as the marriage ceremony or 
part of it, wine or beer from one vessel.' At Ueni-Israil wed- 
dings the bridegroom pours wine into the bride's mouth.^i In 
Korea and China the pair drink wine from two cups, which are 
tied together by a red thread.7 In Christian countries the rite 
ia separated from the marriage ceremonial proper, but is carried 
out mdirectly when the pair receive together the wine of the 
Comnmnion, which is to be partaken of immediately or soon 
after the marriage itself. Among the Qoiftja, the respective 
fathers of the bridal pair drink to^tber.u 

Drinking together at marriage is a rite which 
applies to two parties the principles of social 
drinking. Sharing in an act is a sort of reci- 
procity, and together with interchange of gifts 
constitutes the fundamental principle of society. 
The more abstract ideas of similarity, union, and 
identity follow, and the simple ritual of sharing 
has a corresponding development. From the be- 
ginning there are also involved in the process, but 
unconsciously, the reactions to the pliysiological 
feelings of refreshment, and in particular to the 
effects of alcohol, which increase both self-feeling 
and altruism. 

Pure altruism is the primary motive of many a 
custom which involves a simple sharing of drink. 
Here is the virtue of the man who gives a cup of 
cold water to a little one (Mt 10*^). The natives 
of India have the custom of erecting sheds for the 
giving of water or butter-milk to poor wayfarers.' 

Secondary motives, such as a general desire to 
conciliate or a wish to avoid the injury of a curse 
or an«vil eye, come to obscure the primary. In the 
procession preceding the circumcision of an Egyp- 
tian boy is a servant carrying a skin of water and 
brass cups. Now and then he fills a cup and offers 
it to a passer-by. Another servant carries a tray 
with materials for coffee. It is his business, when 
they pass a well-dressed person, to fill and present 
him with a cup ; the person gives him something, 
perhaps a half -piastre.'" The analogy of other 
Egyptian customs suggests here the avoidance of 
the evil eye. 

Even towards slain animals and the human 
objects of social resentment pure altruism is 
shown. Indians of the Orinoco, after killing an 
animal, pour into its mouth some liquor, ' in order 
that the soul of the dead beast may inform its 
fellows of the welcome it has met with, and that 
they, too, cheered by the prospect of the same 
kind reception, may come with alacrity to be 
killed.' " One may take leave to assign a worthier 
motive as the origin of this custom. Similarly, 
though primitive peoples share their drink with 
the deaf, some have learnt to explain the custom 
of placing such things in the grave as a method of 
inducing the dead to be quiet, and not to come and 
pester the living for anything they want. 

The co-operative totems of Australia are perhaps 
the earliest instance known of the principle of oo- 

1 Lewin, 127. » A. Leared, S7. 

» G. Turner, Samoa, London, 1884, p. 276. 

4 H. B. Rowney, Wild Tribes of India, London, 1882, p. 67. 

siliedel, 460; Wcstermarck, Human Marriage^, London, 
1804, p. 419; E. T. Dalton, Ethnol. of Bengal, Calcutta, 1872, 
p. 1113; I'loss-Bartels, Dot Weib^, Leipzig, 1891, ii. 442 ff. 

8 BG xviii. 620. 

7 W. e. Oriffls, Corea, London, 1882, p. 249 ; J. Doolittle, 
Social Life of the Chinete, London, 1866, i. 86. 

8 8. Hislop, Tribtt of the Central I'rovineet, Nagpur, 1866, 
App. i. p. iv. On the subject generally, see A. E. Crawley, 
Mvitie Rote, London, 1002, p. 333 ff. 

»l'adficld2, 190. 

10 E. W. I Ane, Modem Egvpliam (ed. London, 1886X ii. £79. 

11 Vmer, Glt^ ii. 402, quoting Cauliu. 



DRINKS, DRINKING 



81 



operative industry elevated into a system. Among 
the totems of the Central Australians is a water- 
totem. A member of this may drink water when 
alone ; but, if he is in company, it is necessary for 
him to receive it, or the permission to take it, from 
an individual who belongs not to that totem, but 
to a moiety of the tribe of which the water-man is 
not a member — a complementary moiety. The 
principle, according to Spencer-Gillen, is that of 
mutual obligation between complementary food- 
totems, regulating the supply of food and drink.' 

But the principle of reciprocal service is at the 
root of all social phenomena. Some of its forms 
are curious ; others seem totally unlike the original 
type. Secondary ideas, once more, are responsible 
for these fluctuations. An African wife drank the 
medicine intended for her husband, in the belief 
that he would be cured. ^ A similar notion is seen 
in the belief that wliat a man drinks may afl'ect 
the child whose birth is expected. A furtner de- 
velopment is reached in .such customs as that of 
the Kwakiutl Indian, who, after biting a piece of 
flesh from the arm of a foe, drinks hot water in 
order to inflame the wound.' At this stage of 
sophistication there is often a choice of absurdities. 
The Indian might be supposed anxious for his own 
digestion rather than for the increase of suffering 
on the part of his foe. 

Another case of the intrusion of a secondary idea 
is to be seen in the Australian custom of drinking 
human blood before starting on an atninga (avenging 
expedition). 

* Ever>' man of the party drinks some blood, and also has 
some spurted over hia body, so as to make him what is called 
uchuilima, that is, lithe and active. The elder men indicate 
from whom the blood is to be drawn ; and the men so selected 
must not decline, though the amount drawn from a single indi- 
vidual is often very great ; indeed, we have known of a case in 
which blood was taJcen from a young and strong man until he 
dropped from sheer exhaustion.' -^ 

The beginning of a venture or expedition is uni- 
versally celebrated by drinking, on the principle of 
invigoration, as in the old English 'stirrup-cup.' 
But in the Australian example a further notion 
has come in. If on such an occasion a man joined 
who had oome connexion with the tribe to be 
visited, he was forced to drink blood with the 
party, and, 'having partaken of it, would be 
Donnd not to aid his friends by giving them 
warning of their danger.'' 

The Indians of the Cordilleras drink of the water 
of a river, and pray the god to let them pMs over. 
So did the old Peruvians." Dingan's army at the 
banks of the Ubulinganto strewed charcoal on the 
water, and then drank of it, ' the object perhaps 
being to deprecate some evil power possessed by 
the river.'' More probably the aim is to adapt 
one's self to the object by contact, to produce 
fellow-feeling and sympathy by communion. 

Ideas of union smiilar to those concerned in 
marriage ceremonies of drinking, but involving 
from the outset, or at least producing, ipso facto, 
the secondary idea.s of mutual responsibility by 
means of inoculation, or ingestion of the other s 
substance, or a conditional curse, have built up 
what may be described as the legal forms of social 
drinking. 'The drinking of human blood, or of 
wine mixed with such blood, has been a form of 
covenant among various ancient and medioeval 
peoples, as well as among certain savages.'' ' He 
who has drunk a clansman's blood is no longer a 
stranger but a brother, and included in the mystic 
circle of those who have a share in the life-blood 
that is common to all the clan. '» Robertson Smitli's 
induction is actually a tertiary stage of thought 

> 8pencer-0UJen>>, 160. 

3 R. Moffat, MUsUm. Labnun, Ixindon, 1842, p. 691. 

» F. Boss, in Rtp. U.S. tint. Mvi., 1895, p. 440. 

4Spencer-0Ulen>, 461. ' Ih. « lyior, PC ii. 210. 

' CUlaway, Nunery Tola of the ZtUut, London, 1868, i. 90. 

• Wemermarck, JT/ii. 6«7. > W. E. Smith, Bel. Sum.a aU. 

VOL. v.— 6 



on the subject, but pre.sent and powerful in the 
social consciousness of Arabs and other peoples. 
Among other details in point is the fact that blood- 
brotherhood itself is often produced by drinking 
any substance other than blood. See Brother- 
hood (artificial). 

The ordeal, often termed ' drinking the oath,' is 
a legal application of a secondary idea. 

To extract the truth from a man, the Negro dips a bohsum 
in rum. This rum is then offered to the man, and, if he lies, 
makes his belly swell. A man claiming a debt due to a deceased 
person drinks the water in which he has washed the corpse. In 
legal actions before the chief, the odum drink is drunk as an 
oath and ordeal. It is a poisonous emetic.' A Masai accused of a 
crime drinks blood, and repeats these words : ' If I have done 
this deed, may God kill me.' 2 

Hospitality, a virtue of universal occurrence, is 
often complicated by superstitious accretions due 
to fear of the stranger within the gates. 

As soon as a stranger enters the house of a Jivaro 
or Canelo Indian, each of the women oflers him a 
calabash of chicha. A guest is welcomed by the 
Herero with a cup of milk.' Tliese are simple acts 
of fellow-feeling. It is particularly among Arab 
races that the custom attains complexity. 

Amon^ the nomadic Arabs of Morocco, * as soon as a stranger 
appears m the village, some water, or, if he be a person of dis- 
tinction, some milk, is presented to him. Should he refuse to 
partake of it, he is not allowed to go freely about, but has to 
stay in the village mosque. On asking for an explanation of 
this custom, I was told that it was a precaution against the 
stranger ; should he steal or otherwise misbehave himself, the 
drink would cause his knees to swell so that he could not escape. 
In other words, he has drunk a conditional curse.'* Zaid-al- 
Khail refused to slay a thief who had surreptitiously drunk from 
hia father's milk-bowl. 5 

Health-drinking, the propinatio of the Latins, 
has some variations. One form is the sharing of 
a drink ; the person doing honour drinks first, and 
hands the cup (in Greek life this became the pro- 
perty of the person honoured) to the other. Anotlier 
IS drinking alone, with a look or a sentiment of 
goodwill towards the person honotired. The pro- 
jection outwards of the drinker's will is typified in 
many languages, as in most of the customs, by 
emphasizing the fact that he drinks first. 

Among the Ba-Yaka and Ba-Huana, the host drinks first, and 
the guest after bim.^ At Abyssinian niead-drinkings the host 
drinks first, by way of showing that the liquor is not poisoned. 
He notifies a servant which guests need their cups replenished. 
On receiving the drink, the guest rises and bows.' Among the 
Kaffirs, it is not etiquette to give beer to a guest without first 
tasting it. This, according to the account given, is Intended to 
safeguard the guest against poison.^ 

Terms like ' pledge ' connote the idea of guaran- 
teeing goodwill. The poison-test is obviously not 
the origin of the custom of the host or pledger 
drinking first. When that custom took on second- 
ary ideas, one of tliese would lie the afiirmation 
that what the host offers is his own, and that it is 
of his best. 

In barbarism the drinking-bout so called is 
often the form of political discussion. The chief 
of the A-kikuyu gives his people the news at beer- 
drinkings, to which he invites them.' 

With agricultural drinking-feasts we return to 
man's immediate relations to intoxicating or re- 
freshing drink. Drinking is a social rite in con- 
nexion with the ceremonial eating of the new 
crops. 

Lithuanian peasants observe a festival called Sabarios, ' the 
mixing or throwing together,' when the sowing of the new corn 
has taken place. The Cheremiss celebrate the baking of the 
first bread from the new com by a ceremonial drinking of l>eer. 
•The whole ceremony looks almost like a caricature of the 
Eucharist.' At the cutting of the rice the Coorgs of South 
India drink a liquor of milk, honey, and sugar.'O 

1 A. B. Ellis, Tshi-tpeaking Peoples, 197 f. 

' Uollis, The Mamx, Oxford, 1006, p. 346. 

» Simson, in JAI ix. (1880) 891 ; Eatzel, ii. 480. 

* Westermarck, MI i. 690. 

» W. R. Smith, Kinihip, London, 1886, p. 149 «. 

8 Torday-Joyce, in 74/ xxxvi. 42, 279. 

7 Ratzel, iii. 228, 329. 8 L>. Leslie, 206. » Routledge, 63. 

10 Frazer,CB2ii. 319-323, quotin|fI'netorius,Z)eiu!«ePn«)«tra, 
Berlin, 1371, pp. 60-04, and Georgi, Uegchreibung aUer A'af ton«)k 
det nusiachen Reicht, St. Petersburg, 1776, p. 37. 



82 



DEUIDS 



In such rites there is the social consecration, im- 
plicit or explicit, of wine itself and its sources. 

It is perhaps merely an abnormality that fasting 
among many peoples does not exclude drinking 
strong liquor. This is notably the case in West 
Africa. Spirits are largely drunk during the fast 
after a death, and mourners are generally intoxi- 
cated. During the fast-days of the yam harvest 
the [teople drink hard, and the king and chief dis- 
tribute brandy and rum.' 

For various obscure reasons, great personages of 
the sacred world are often restricted to pure water. 

The ancient kings of Egypt were restricted to a prescribed 
quantity of wine ;)er diem. Plutarch says they never drank it 
at alt. because it is tlie b1>x)d of beings who fought against the 
gods.3 The chief of the Karennis of Burma ' attains his position 
not by hereditary right, but on account of his habit of abstaining 
from rice and liquor. The mother, too, of a candidate for the 
chieftainship must have eschewed these things ... BO long as 
she was with child. During that time she might not . . . drink 
water from a common well.'S The Bodia, or Bodio, the pontiff 
of the Grebo people of West Africa, may not drink water on the 
highway.* Here there is clearly a reference to *puritv.' Priests 
in Abyssinia drink neither wine nor niead-^ Wine might not be 
taken into the temple at Heliopolis, and no one might enter the 
temple at Delos unless his system were free from wine.^ 

Asceticism naturally would ipterdict stimulating 
drinks, as it interdicts all tendency to expansion. 

* Water was the pure and innocent beverage of the primitive 
monks ; and the founder of the Benedictines regrets the daily 
portion of half a pint of wine, which had been extorted from 
him by the intemperance of the age.' 7 

Many peoples low in tlie scale of culture em- 
phasize by law the natural aversion of childhood, 
not to speak of womanhood, to intoxicants. The 
A-kikuyu, for instance, allow no one to drink beer 
until he has reached the status of 'elder.'* The 
Chaco Indians forbid women and children, even 
youths, the use of intoxicants.' 
LiTEiUTDBi.— This is fully given in the footnotes. 

A. E. Crawley. 

DRUIDS. — The elaborate system of theology 
and philosophy ascribed to the Druids by the older 
school of writers, and the esoteric doctrines sup- 
posed to have been handed down from pagan times 
in the bardic schools of Wales, have no foundation 
in fact, though they still have a hold upon the popu- 
lar fancy, which loves to think of the Druids as 
a mysterious Celtic priesthood, guardians of pure 
doctrines — the relics of a primitive revelation. 
Much of this is due to the classical writers them- 
selves, who had strange notions about the Druids. 
A strictly scientific examination of the evidence 
proves that there was little tliat was mysterious 
or esoteric about them ; nor, though we may regret 
the paucity of the evidence, is it likely tliat, had 
it been fuller, it would have given any support to 
those unscientific opinions. Our knowledge of the 
Druids rests mainly upon what Caesar, in a passage 
of some length (rfe Bell. Gall. vi. 13 f.), and Pliny 
and other writers in shorter notices, have handed 
down, and upon occasional references in the Irish 
texts. The monumental and epigiaphic evidence 
is practically nil, although Dom Martin {Bel. des 
Gaulow, Paris, 1727) and others insisted that the 
figures on various bas-reliefs in Gaul were Druids 
engaged in ritual acts. 

I. Origin of the Druids.— Opinion is stUl divided 
regarding the origin of the Druids, whether they 
arose in Gaul or in Britain, and wliether they 
formed a pre-Celtic or simply a Celtic priesthood. 
Nothing was known definitely by the classical ob- 
servers. While Pliny {HN xxx. 1) seems to think 
that Druidism passed from Gaul to Britain, Csesar 

1 A. B. Elli», Tihi-speahing Peoples, 229, 239, Eim-speakina 
P*opU*, London, 1880, p. 162. 

» Diod. Sic. i. 70 ; PluUrch, d» Is. et Otir. 6. 

» I A xxi. 317. 

* H. H. Johnston, Liberia, London, 1806, U. 1077. 
> Ratzel, ii. S29. 

* Plutarch, d# It. et Otir. 6 ; Dittenberger, SvXl. Inter. Orcie.\ 
Ulp«iK, 1898-1801, no. 664. ' 

1 Gibbon, Decline and Fall, ch. zzxvii. 

» Routledge, «2. • Orubb, 184. 



(vi. 13) says : 'The system is thought to have been 
devised in Britain and brought thence into Gaul ; 
and at the present time they who desire to know 
it more accurately generally go thither for the 
purpose of studying it.' Possibly, however, Caesar 
IS relating what was a current opinion rather than 
an actual fact, since he says * is thought ' {exUli- 
matur). This opinion may have l>een based on 
the fact that the system was held to be purer in 
Britain than in Gaul, where, in the south at least, 
it had perhaps come in contact with other influ- 
ences, e.g. Greek philosophy, through the colonies 
at Marseilles. Taking Ca»ar's words as a state- 
ment of fact, D'Arbois de Jubainville (Les Druides, 
Paris, 1906, p. 23 f.) and others (Desjardins, Giog. 
de la. Gaule rom., Paris, 1876-85, ii. 518; Deloche, 
MDMxxxiv. 446) hold that Druidism originated in 
Britain. The former maintains that the Ditiids 
were the priests of the Goidels, who, when con- 
quered by the Celts from Gaul, in turn imposed 
tlieir priesthood upon their conquerors. The 
Druidio system then passed over into Gaul about 
200 B.C., where it was equally triumphant. All 
this is based upon no other evidence than Caesar's 
statement. Valroger {Les Celtes, Paris, 1879, p. 
158) further derives British Druidism from the 
Phcenicians, for reasons which are purely fantastic ; 
and equally fantastic is its derivation from Bud- 
dhistic sources (Wise, Hist, of Paganism in Cale- 
donia, London, 1884). 

A growing school of wTiters has on various 
grounds adopted the theory that Druidism was 
pre-Celtic in ori^n, and imposed itself upon the 
Celtic conquerors in Gaul and Britain. The Druids 
are not found in the Danube area, in Cisalpine 
regions, or in Transalpine Gaul outside the region 
occupied by the 'Celt£e,' i.e. the short, brachy- 
cephalic race of the anthropologists (Holmes, 
Ccesar's Conquest of Gaul, London, 1899, p. 15). 
But the references to the Druids are so casual, 
especially as no classical writer professed to write 
a complete account of this priesthood, that this 
negative evidence cannot be taken as conclusive. 
Moreover, it cuts both ways, since there is no 
reference to Druids in Aquitania — a non-Celtic 
region (Desjardins, ii. 519). On the other hand, 
the earliest reference to the Druids in two Greek 
writers c. 200 B.C., cited by Diogenes Laertius 
(i. 1), seems to testify to their existence outside 
Gaul ; while Celtic priests, though not formally 
called Druids, were known in Cisalpine Gaul 
(Livy, xxiii. 24). Professor Rh^s postulates Druid- 
ism as 'the common religion of tne aboriginal in- 
habitants from the Baltic to Gibraltar,' from whom 
the incoming Celts adopted it (Celt. Brit.", London, 
1884, p. 72) ; and in this he is followed by Gomme, 
who finds many of the Druidic beliefs and practices 
— tlie redemption of one life by another, magical 
spells, shape-shifting, the customs of the Druids 
in settling property succession, boundaries, and 
controversies, and in adjudging crimes — opposed 
to Aryan sentiment (Ethnology in Folk-lore, Lon- 
don, 1892, p. 58, Village Community, London, 
1890, p. 104). This begs the whole question of 
what was Aryan and what was non-Aryan ; and, 
indeed, there is every reason to believe that Aryan 
sentiment was as backward, if not more so, in such 
matters as that of the pre-Aryan folk. Nor is it 
easy to understand why the Aryan Celts were con- 
quered by the Druidic priesthood, if their ' senti- 
ment ' was so opposed to the beliefs and practices 
of the Druids. On the other hand, the arguments 
used by lieinach (liCel xiii. 189, ' L'Art plastiqne 
en Gaule et le druidisme ') in support of the pre- 
Celtic origin of the Druids suggest a higher religi- 
ous outlook on the part of the pre-Celtic people. 
The Celts, he says, had no images, and this argues 
that images were forbidden, and only a powerful 



DRUIDS 



83 



priesthood could have forbidden them. But the 
pre-Celtic peoples in Gaul had equally no images, 
while, on the other hand, they had vast mega- 
lithic structures. Therefore, again, only a powerful 
priesthood could have forbidden the one and forced 
the people to erect the other. The same priest- 
hood, the Druids, continued to exercise that power 
over the Celts which they had exercised over the 
aboriginal race. The Celts adopted the Druidic 
religion en bloc ; but, when the Celts appear in 
history, Druidism is in its decline, the military 
caste rebelling against the foreign priesthood and 
taking its place. In answer to these arguments 
it may be pointed out that the Celts do not appear 
to have had a religious prejudice against images 
(see Celts, § XIV.); again, the adoption of the 
aboriginal religion era bloc would be credible only 
if the Celts had no religion and no priests of their 
own, while it leaves unexplained the fact that 
they did not adopt the custom of erecting mega- 
lithic structures ; finally, the opposition of the 
military to the priestly caste is no argument for 
the foreign origin of the latter, since such an oppo- 
sition has been found wherever these two castes, 
existing side by side, have each desired supremacy. 
2. The ' gutuatri.' — Besides the Druids, the Celts 
had certain priests, called gutuatri, attached to 
certain cults like the Roman flamens. D'Arbois 
(p. 2 tf. ) argues that the guituciri were the only 
native Celtic priesthood, and that, when the Druids, 
whose functions were more general, were adopted 
by the Celts, the gutuatri assumed a lower place. 
It is much more likely that they were a special 
branch of the Druidic priesthood, attached to the 
cult of some particular god. Ausonius calls Phoe- 
bitius Beleni cedituus (perhaps the Latin equivalent 
of gutuatros), while he was of a Druidic stock like 
another servant of Belenus mentioned elsewhere 
{Prof. V. 7, xi. 24) ; and this suggests a connexion 
between the two. Livy distinguishes the sacer- 
dotes from the antistites of the temple of the 
Boii (xxiii. 24), and this may refer to Druids and 
gjUuatri. Classical evidence tends to show that 
the Druids were a great inclusive priesthood, with 
priestly, prophetic, magical, medical, legal, and 
poetical functions. Most of the.se functions are 
ascribed to the Druids by Csesar. Elsewhere we 
hear of diflerent classes — Druids (pliilosophers and 
theologians), diviners, and bards (Diod. Sic. v. 31 ; 
Strabo.IV.iv. 4[p. 197]; Amm. Marc. xv. 9). Strabo 
gives in Greek form the native name of the diviners 
as oiireis, which was probably in Celtic vdtis (Irish 
fdith). The bards in all three writers are a class 
by themselves, who sing the deeds of renowned 
warriors ; but since vAtis means both ' prophet ' 
and ' poet,' the diviners may not have been quite 
distinct from the bards. The connexion between 
Druids and diviners is still closer. No sacrifice 
was complete without a philosopher or Druid, 
according to Diodorus and Strabo, yet both speak 
of the sacrificial functions of the diviners ; while, 
though the Druids were of a higher intellectual 
grade and studied moral philosophy as well as 
Nature (Timagenes), according to the same writer 
and Strabo, the diviners also studied Nature. 
Augury was a specialty of the diviners, yet the 
Druids also made use of this art (Cic. de Divin. 
i. 41, 90; Tac. Hist. iv. 54), while Pliny refers to 
'Druids and this race of prophets and physicians' 
{vatum medicorumque, xxx. 1). Thus the diviners 
seem to have been a Druidic class, drawing au- 
guries from the sacrifices performed by Druids, 
while standing in relation to the bards, whom we 
may regard as another Druidic class. In Ireland we 
trace the same three classes. There are the Druids 
who appear in the texts mainly as magicians, 
though their former priestly functions ciin here 
and there be traced. There were the Jilid (from 



vela, ' I see ' [Stokes, Urkelt. Sprachschatz, GBt- 
tingen, 1894, p. 277]), learned poets who occupied 
a higher rank than the third class, the bards. The 
filid were also diviners and jirophets, whUe soma 
of their methods of divination implied a sacrifice. 
The Druids, who likewise were certainly sacrificial 
priests, were also diviners and prophets in Ireland. 
Hence the two classes stood in close relation, like 
the Druid and vdtis of Gaul. With the overthrow 
of the Druids as a priestly class, iiiQ filid remained 
as the learned class. D'Arbois (p. 108) assumes 
that there had been a rivalry between the two 
classes, and that the filid, making common cause 
with the Christian missionaries, gained their 
support. But this is unlikely. The filid, less 
markedly associated with pagan priestly functions, 
were less obnoxious, and may willingly have re- 
nounced purely pagan practices. At an earlier time 
they may have been known a,s fdt hi {=vates), or 
prophets — a name applied later to the OT prophets 
and sages (Windisch, Tdin bd Cualnge, Leipzig, 1905, 
Introd. p. xliv) ; but, as they now applied them- 
selves mainly to poetic science, thus apparently 
reducing the bards to a lower position, the name 
filid designated them more aptly. 

The connexion of the filid with the Druids is 
further witnessed to by the fact that the former 
had an Ard-file, or chief-poet, and that, when the 
office was vacant, election was made to it, and 
rival candidates strove for it (Stokes, Trip. Life, 
London, 1887, i. 52, ii. 402 ; Windisch and Stokes, 
Ir. Texte, Leipzig, 1880 ff., i. 373; 'Colloquy of 
the Two Sages,' Book of Leinster, 187). This re- 
sembles what Ceesar tells of election to the office 
of chief-Druid (vi. 13), while there was probably 
a chief -Druid in Ireland (§8). The ^M acted as 
judges, as did also the Druids, while both had a 
long novitiate to serve, lasting over several years, 
before they were admitted to either class. 

The gutttatri are known mainly from inscriptions, but Hirtius 
(de Bell. Gall. viii. 38) spealfs of one put to death by Caesar. 
An inscription at M^on spealcs of a gutuater Martis, i.e. of 
some Celtic god identified with Mars {Rev. Epig., 1900, p. 230) ; 
two gutuatri of the jfod Anualos occur in inscriptions from 
Autun, and another in one from Puy-en-Valay (see Uolder, 
Altcelt. Sprachschatz, Leipzig, 1891 ff., i. 2046). The antistites 
templi mentioned by Livy, xxiii. 24, as found among the Boii, 
may have been gutuatri, lilie Ausonius' cedituus. Gutuatri 
may mean ' the speakers,* i.e. they who invoked the gods 
(D'Arbois, p. 3), and it is derived from gutu, 'voice' (Zeuss, 
followed by Holder, i, 2046 ; for another explanation, see Loth, 
RCel xxviii. 120), the Gaulish gutuatros being Latinized aa 
gutuater. 

3. The Druids a native Celtic priesthood. — There 
is, therefore, little ground for tlie theory that the 
Druids were a pre-Celtic priesthood imposed upon 
or adopted by the Celtic conquerors. With it is 
connected the theory that the Druids had a de- 
finite theological system and worshipped only a 
few gods, while they merely gave their sanction to 
the Celtic cults of many gods or of various natural 
objects — wells, trees, etc. (Bertrand, Bel. des Gaul., 
Paris, 1897, pp. 192 f., 268 f.; Holmes, op. cit. p. 
17). All this is purely hypothetical, and we coii- 
clude that the Druids were a native priesthood 
common to both branches of the Celtic people, and 
that they had grown up side by side with the 
growth of the native religion. On the other hand, 
it is far from unlikely that many of the pre-Celtio 
cults were adopted by the Celts because they re- 
sembled their own native cults, and that the abori- 
ginal priesthood may, in time, have been incor- 
jwrated with the Druidic priesthood, just as the 
pre-Celtic people themselves were Celticized. A 
detailed examination of the functions of the Druids 
leaves little doubt that they took part in the cult 
of natural objects, and tiiat they were much 
addicted to magical practices. Possibly in the 
south of Gaul, where they felt the influence of 
Greek civilization, and employed Greek characters 
in writing (Ctcsar, vi. 14), some of these cults and 



8i 



DRUIDS 



practices may have been abandone*!, ami the 
Druids may have become more definitely a learned 
class. But as a class the Druids were not a 
philosophic priesthood, possessed of secret know- 
ledge, while the people were given over to super- 
stition and magic. Some of the cults of Celtic 
religion and much of its magic may have been 
unofficial, in the sen.se that any one could ))erform 
them, just as a Christian can pray without the 
intervention of priestly help. But the Druids 
themselves probably practised those cults and 
used that magic, and doubtless the people them- 
selves knew that greater success was likely to be 
obtained if a Druid were called in to help on 
these unofficial occasions. The Druids never lost 
the magical character which is found in all 
primitive priesthoods. Hence it is a mistake to 
regard 'Dmidism' as an entity outside of Celtic 
religion in general, and, on the whole, opposed to 
it The Celtic religion, in effect, was Druidism. 

The native Celtic name for Druid wag probably drAu, gen. 
dr&idos. In Irish it is dnii, drdi, or dravi (cf. Gaelic drool, 
'•orcerer'). The etymology is obscure. Pliny, connecting it 
with the Celtic oak -cults, derived it from Gr. JpSc, 'oak,' an 
impossible derivation. Thumcysen (Keltoramaniiches, Halle, 
1884, t.v.) analyzes 'Druid' into druuids, regarding the first 
part of the word, dm-, as an intensive, and connecting uids 
with Hid, ' to see or know.' The resulting meaning would l)e 
'greatly or highly knowing,' a meaning consonant with the 
position of the medicine-man or priest everywhere as one who 
knows more than his fellows (see also Osthoff, Etymnl. Parerga, 
Leipzig, 1901, i. 1339., 153). Stokes {Urhdt. Sprachsehatz, p. 
157) regards the etymology as uncertain, but compares 5pe'o>iai, 
' to cry aloud,' iSpieiv, ' to look,' although the etymology of the 
latter Gr. word is still very uncertain (cf. Boisacq, Diet itymul. 
dt la langue greanu, Heidelberg, 1907 II., p. 18 f.). For ogham 
inscriptions m which the name Druid occurs, see Holder, s.v. 
' Druida,' i. 1330. 

4. Were the Druids a philosophic priesthood? 
— The earliest reference to the Druids by name is 
found in a passage of Diogenes Laertius (i. 1), 
who, when referring to the philosophic character 
of barbaric priesthoods, cites Sotion and pseudo- 
Aristotle (c. 2nd cent. B.C.) as saying, 'There are 
among the Celtje and Galatoe those who are called 
Drui(ls and Semnotheoi.' Caesar, Strabo, Diodorus 
Siculus, Timagenes, Lucan, Pomponius Mela, and 
many other later writers speak of the philosophic 
science of the Druids, their schools of learning, 
and their political power ; but, on the other hand, 
most of tiiese writers refer to the cruel human 
sacrifices of the Druids, Mela characterizing these 
as savagery (iii. 18), while Suetonius also descrites 
their religion as cruel and savage {Claud. 25). 
Pliny does not regard them as philosophers, but 
his description of the mistletoe rite suggests their 
priestly functions, though here and in other 
passages ho associates them with magico-medical 
rites {UN xxiv. 63, xxix. 12, xxx. 1). The differ- 
ence in these opinions shows that a closer practical 
acquaintance with the Druids revealed their true 
nature to the Roman Government, which found 
them more cruel and bloodthirsty and superstitious 
than philosophical. For these reasons, and on ae- 
count of their hostility to Rome, the latter broke 
their power systematically (see below, § 12). Thus, 
it is unlikely that the Druids were reduced to a 
kind of medicine-men to gain a livelihood (D'Arbois, 
77). Pliny's phrase, Vruidas . . . et hoc genus 
vatum tnediconimque, appears to refer rather to 
their position before the Roman edicts and to the 
fact that there were different grades among tliem — 
some priests, some diviners, and some practising a 
primitive medical science. Pliny's acquaintance 
with the Druids seems to have been superficial, 
but he evidently realized that their magical prac- 
tices belonged to them from the first, and were 
not the result of Roman su|>pre»sion. On the 
other hand, it is probable that the Druids were 
not all at the same level over the whole Celtic 
area. But the opinion that they were lofty philo- 
sophers seems to nave been repeated by a series of 



writers, without any inquiry whether there w«B 
any real ground in fact for their opinion. 

'i'he facts upon M'hich what may be called 'the 
Druidic legend,' as it api)caled to tlie classical 
world, was based were those : the Druids were 
teachers, unlike the Greek and Roman jiriests {e.g. 
they taught the doctrine of immortality), they 
were highly organized, they were skilled magicians, 
and their knowledge was supposed to lie Divinely 
conveyed (they ' speak the language of the gods,' 
Diod. Sic. V. xxxi. 4). On the other hand, we must 
beware of exaggerating the descriptions, them- 
selves probably exaggerated, in classical writers. 
CiBsar (vi. 14) and Mela (iii. 19) say, 'They profess 
to know the motions of the heavens and tlie stars' 
— a knowledge which need not imply more than 
the primitive astronomy of barbaric races every- 
where. Thus Cicero's Druid, Divitiacus {de Dw. 
i. 41 , 90), though professing a knowledge of Nature, 
used it to divine the future. Strabo (IV. iv. 4 [p. 
197]) and Mela (iii. 19) tell of their knowledge of 
' the magnitude and form of the earth and the 
world,' of their belief in successive transformations 
of an eternal matter, and in the alternate triumph 
of two elements, fire and water. This need have 
fjeen no more than a series of cosmogonic myths, 
the crude science of speculative minds wherever 
found. Similarly, the Druidic doctrine of metera- 

Esychosis had certainly no ethical bearing, and, 
■om what may be gathered of it from Irish texts, 
did not differ from similar beliefs found, e.g., among 
American Indians and Negroes. The philosophy 
of the Druids, if it existed, was elusive: no classical 
writer ever discovered it fully ; it exerted no in- 
fluence upon cla,ssical thought. For the same 
reason the theory of a connexion between Druidism 
and the Pythagorean system must be rejected, 
though again we must not overlook the fact that 
Greek phflosophic teachings may have penetrated 
te some of the Druids via the Massilian colonies. 
Probably the origin of this fabled connexion is to 
be foun'd in the fact that the Druids taught a 
future existence in the body, and that they had 
myths, such as are found in the Irish texts (see 
Celts, § XVI.), regarding transmigration. It was 
at once assumed that there must be a link between 
these Celtic beliefs and the Pythagorean doctrine 
of metempsychosis. There are, however, very real 
differences. The Druidic doctrine of immortality 
was not necessarily one of metempsychosis properly 
so called, for the myths of transmigration mainly 
concerned gods and not men ; and m neither case 
was there any ethical content such as the Pytha- 
gorean doctrine insists on. But, the belief in this 
connexion once started, other apparent resem- 
blances were exaggerated and made much of. 
Hence such statements as those of Timagenes, 
that the Druids ' conformed to the doctrines and 
rules of the discipline instituted by Pythagoras' 
{ap. Amm. Marc. xv. 9 ; cf. Diod. Sic. v. 28) ; or of 
Ammianns, that they lived in communities, their 
minds always directed te the search after lofty 
things ; or of Hippolytus, long after Druidism had 
disapjieared in Gaul, that Zamolxis, a disciple of 
Pythagoras, had taught his doctrines to the Celts 
soon after his death {Philos. ii. 17). There is no 
evidence that the Di-uids lived in communities; 
they certainly did not do so in Ireland, and probably 
the fact that they were a more or less organized 
priesthood with different grades and functions (.see 
above, § 2) gave rise to this opinion. AVe have 
seen how far their philosophic researches probably 
extended, and Hippolytus'^ statement is obviously 
fabulous, especially as it stands alone and refers to 
a period eight centuries before his time. On the 
other hand, there is no reason to doubt that the 
Druids sought after knowledge, but it was of an 
entirely empiric kind, and must have been closely 



DRUIDS 



86 



connected with their practice of divination and 
magic, their liuman aacrilices, and their belief in 
the power of ritual. 

5. The Druids as teachers. — To the Druids, says 
Caesar (vi. 13), 'a great number of the young men 
flock for the sake of instruction ' ; but the next 
paragraph (14) suggests that it was the privilege 
of exemption from military service and from 
tribute that encouraged many to go to them of 
their own accord for instruction, or to be sent to 
them by parents and relatives. Whatever the 
reason, the fact that the Druids were teachers 
cannot be doubted ; but, since their course of in- 
struction lasted 20 years, some of their pupils 
were probably under training for the priestly life 
rather than for general instruction. The Irish 
texts show that the insular Druids were also 
teachers, imparting ' the science of Druidisra ' 
(druidecht) to as many as 100 pupils at one time, 
while they also taught the daughters of kings, as 
well as the fabulous heroes of the past like Ciichu- 
lainn (Leabhar na hUidhrc, 61 ; Trip. Life, 99). 
Caesar \vTites that the subjects of knowledge were 
the doctrine of immortality, 'many things re- 
garding the stars and their motions, the extent of 
the universe and the earth, the nature of things, 
and the power and might of the immortal gods' 
(vi. 14) ; and verses, never committed to writing, 
were also learned. Strabo (loc. eit.) also speaks of 
their teachings in 'moral science.' The teaching 
of immortality had a practical end, for it was 
intended to rouse men to valour and make them 
fearless of death. Their scientific teaching was 
probably connected with magic and divination, 
and doubtless included many cosmogonic myths 
and speculations ; their theology was no doubt 
mythological^stories about the gods such as are 
found in the Irish texts ; their moral teaching was 
sncb as is found in most barbaric communities. 
An example of it is handed down by Diogenes 
Laertius {proem. 5) : ' The Druids philosophize sen- 
tentiously and obscurely — to worship the gods, to 
do no evil, to exercise courage.' Kitual formula?, 
incantations, and runes would also be imparted. 
These last may be the verses to which Cajsar re- 
fers, but they probably also included many myths 
in poetic form. They were taught orally, in order 
to keep them from the common people (a curious 
reason, as the common people could not read), and 
in order to exercise tlie memory. The oral trans- 
mission of the Vedas is a parallel with this. 
Writing, however, was known, and the Greek 
characters were used ; but this can hardly apply 
to a wide region. Perhaps there was also a native 
script, and the ogham system may have been known 
in Gaul as well as in Ireland, if we may judge by 
the existence of the god called Ogmios (see CELTS, 
§ V. ). The Irish Druids appear to have had written 
books, to judge from an incident in the life of St. 
Patrick (Trip. Life, 284). Beyond what Csesar 
says of the verses kept secret from the common 
people, and consisting of incantations and myths, 
there is no evidence that the Druids taught some 
lofty esoteric knowledge, some noble philosophy, 
or some monotheistic or pantheistic doctrine. 
The secret formula; were kept secret save to the 
initiated, lest they should lose their magical power 
by becoming too common, as in the parallel cases 
of savage and barbaric mysteries elsewliere. 

6. Religfious functions of the Druids. — The 
Druids ' take part in sacred matters, attend to 
public and private sacrifices, and expound the prin- 
ciples of religion ' (CVsar, vi. 13). Their priestly 
power being so great, the Druids would let no 
important part of the cult pa.ss out of their hands. 
All details of ritual — the chanting of runes, the 
formula; of prayers, and the oflering of sacrifices — 
were in their hands ; in a word, they were medi- 



ators between the gods and men. Every known 
kind of divination was observed by them, and 
before all matters of importance their help in scan- 
ning the future was sought (see CELTS, § XIII.). 
As to sacrifices, none was complete ' without the 
intervention of a Druid ' (Diod. Sic. V. xxxi. 4 ; cf. 
Caisar, vi. 16). This was probably also the case 
in Ireland, though little is said of sacrifices in the 
texts ; we do, however, find Druids taking part in 
the sacrifices at Tara (D'Arbois, Cours ae Hit. 
celt., Paris, 1883, i. 155) and at the Beltane festival 
(Cormac, Gloss., ed. Stokes, in Three Irish Gloss- 
aries, London, 1862, s.v.). The cruel sacrifices of 
the Druids horrified the Romans, and this largely 
discounts the statements about their philosophic 
doctrines. An instance of their power is seen in 
the fact that those who refused to obey their 
decrees were interdicted from all sacrifices — a 
severe punishment in the ease of so religious a 
people as the Gauls (Caesar, vi. 13 and 16). The 
Druids played an important part in the native 
baptismal and name-giving rites (see BAPTISM 
[Ethnic], § 7), and also in all funeral ceremonies. 
At burial, runes were chanted, and sacrifices were 
offered by the Druid, who also arranged all the 
rites and pronounced a discourse over the dead. 
The Druids would also regulate all myths regard- 
ing the gods. Many of these would be composed 
or arranged by them, but, save on Irish ground, 
all trace of them is lost. They also composed and 
arranged the various magic formulae, incantations, 
and prayers. Besides this, they who knew the 
language of the gods (Diod. Sic. V. xxxi. 4) probably 
claimed to be incarnations of these gods, in this 
occupying the place of those earlier priest-kings 
upon whom the order of the universe depended. 
With the differentiation of king and priest some 
of the Druids may have been invested with such 
divinity, although in Ireland it was still apparently 
attributed to kings (see Celts, § VIII.) ; but this 
may not have debarred the Druids from claiming 
similar powers. Such divine pretensions would 
accord with the claim of the Druids to have created 
lieaven, earth, sea, and sun (Anticnt Laws of Ire- 
land, Dublin, 1865-1901, i. 22), while it would also 
explain the superiority of their rank over that of 
kings as alleged by Dio Chrysostom and discovered 
in Irish instances (see § 9). 

7. Medical and magical practices. — Pliny's 
words, Druidas et hoc genus vatum medicorumque, 
may suggest that the Druids practised the heal- 
ing art, or that a special class attached to them 
did BO. In Ireland, Druids had also medical skill, 
and some who are not called Dmids, but may 
have been associated with them, practised this pro- 
fession (O'Curry, MS Mat., Dublin, 1861, pp. 221, 
641 ; Windisch, Ir. Texte, i. 215). And, as there 
were gods of healing in Gaul, so in Ireland the god 
Diancecht was supreme in this art. But, in so far 
as the Druids were doctors, it was probably the 
magical aspect of medicine with which they dealt. 
Thus the plants which Pliny mentions as in use by 
the Druids, or the use of which they recommended 
(UN xxiv. II, XXV. 9), may have had healing pro- 
perties, but it was apparently the magical ritual 
with which they were gathered, quit* as much as 
their own powers, that counted, while the use of 
them was in some cases magical. The gatherer 
must be clothed in white, he must have his feet 
naked, must make a sacrifice, and must cull the 
plant in a particular way and at a certain time. 
The mistletoe was also used for healing, but it is 
evident that the plucking of it had a much wider 
importance (for the ritual, see CELTS, § X.). The 
classical observers were so dominated by their pre- 
conceptions of the Gaulish Druids that we hear 
little from them regarding their magical practices. 
The Irish Druids, however, were quite evidently 



66 



DRUIDS 



inagiciaiis, and tlieir practices included shape- 
shifting and invisibility, control of the elements 
and the weather, the producing of fertility, the 
use of all kinds of spells, and the causing of sleep, 
illness, or death by magical means (see Celts, 
§ XV.). Though it is possible that the Druids of 
Gaul may have been more advanced than those of 
the islands, it is most unlikely that they did not 
also pose as magicians, and it is more than likely 
that it is this side of their functions to which 
Suetonius refers when he speaks of the 'savage' 
nature of the Druidic religion ; or Pliny, when he 
calls the Druids moffi (xvi. 44, xxiv. 11) or genus 
vatum medicorumque (xxx. 1) ; or Posidonius, when 
he says (in Diod. Sic. v. xxxi. 5) that • they tamed 
the people as wild beasts are tamed.' How far is 
this from the attributing of a lofty philosophy to 
the Druids ! Moreover, the wide-spread use of 
human sacrifices among the Druids of Gaul makes 
it extremely probable a priori that they were also 
wielders of magic, while, as we have seen, they 
certainly used the art of divination. 

8. Druidic organization.— The enormous power 
wielded by the Druids both in religion and in 
politics, as well as the privileges which they 
claimed, makes it evident that they were a more 
or less closely organized priestly corporation ; and 
this conclusion receives support from the fact that 
they had fixed annual meetings in Gaul (see below, 
§ 9), and that, as Caisar says (vi. 13), there was one 
chief-Druid wielding authority over all the others. 
On the death of the chief-Druid, he who had pre- 
eminent dignity among the others succeeded to 
the office ; but, if there were several of equal rank, 
the selection was made by vote, while sometimes 
they even contended in arms for the presidency. 
Though there were Druidic families, the priest- 
hood was not necessarily hereditary, since, as has 
been seen, entrance to it was permitted after a 
long novitiate. There is no direct evidence that 
the insular Druids were similarly organized ; but, 
in spite of the denials of some recent writers, the 
fact that there were chief-Druids in Ireland is seen 
from the texts, and such a chief-Druid, primtts 
magus, summoned the others together when neces- 
sary, e.g. against St. Patrick {Trip. Life, ii. 325). 
A passage of Timagenes, cited by Ammianus Mar- 
cellinus (XV. ix. 8), and connecting the Druidic organ- 
ization with the authority of Pythagoras, speaks 
of the Druids as sodaliciis adstricti consortiis. 
This points to them as a religious corporation 
(sodalicium), and perhaps as dwelling in coenobitic 
communities, if consortium is to be taken in that 
sense, which is not certain. Csesar, on the other 
hand, who gives the fullest account of them, says 
nothing of communities of Druids, and the passage 
of Timagenes may simply be an exaggeration due 
to the fact that they had some kind of organiza- 
tion or that there were Druidic families, and to a 
supposed following of the Pythagorean associations 
by them. The theory has, however, been revived 
by Bertrand (Bel. des Gaul., p. 280), who maintains 
that the Druids lived in communities like the 
Tibetan or Christian monks, devoted to abstruse 
studies, and that the Irish monastic system was 
simply a Christian transformation of this Druidic 
community life. The Irish texts give no support 
to this view ; on the contrary, there are numerous 
references to the>wife and children of the Druid ; 
nor is it likely that the Druids, in all cases hostile 
to the Christian faith, would be transformed into 
Christian monks. The Irish monastic system was 
formed on Continental models, and owed nothing 
to paganixm. 

0. Political and judicial functions of the Druids. 
—The iKilitioal power of the Druids would cer- 
tainly be augmented by their position as teachers ; 
and, though in individual cases it may have owed 



much to a commanding personality, the evidence 
leaves little doubt that it was exercised officially. 
Rulers and chiefs were apparently elected by their 
choice, and Ciesar(vii. 33) speaks of the magistrate 
Convictolitanis who, on a vacancy occurring in the 
office, had been elected by the priests ' according 
to the custom of the State.' It was evidently a 
customary power which was thus exercised. In 
Ireland the Druids also intervened in the choice of 
a king. They sang runes over a sleeping man who 
had been fed with the flesh of a white bull slain 
perhaps as a sacrifice, the runes being ' to render 
his witness truthful.' The man then dreamt of 
the person who was to be king, and saw where he 
was and what he was doing at tlie time. When the 
man awoke, the subject of his vision was elected 
king (Windisch, Ir. Texte, i. 213). Perhaps the 
Druids hypnotized the man and suggested to him 
the person whom they desired to be elected. We 
have no evidence as to the method of election in 
Gaul. Dio Chrysostom (Oral, xlix.) says of the 
Druids that kings were their ministers and ser- 
vants of their thought, and could do nothing apart 
from them ; and, although his witness is late and 
may be exaggerated, it receives corroboration from 
the Irish texts, in which the king is always accom- 
panied by his Druid, and is influenced by him. 
Moreover, a singular passage in the Tdin bd Cu- 
alnge (Windisch^ ed. p. 672 1. ) shows King Concho- 
bar giving no response to the bringer of important 
tidings until the Druid Cathbad had spoken to 
him. ' For such was the rule in Ulster. The men 
of Ulster must not speak before the king, and the 
king must not speak before his Druids {Antient 
Laws of Ireland, i. 22). The political power of the 
Druids, though great, is exactly paralleled by that 
of other priesthoods, and may have served to keep 
in check the position of the warrior class. Thej 
frequently intervened in combats, and by their 
exhortations made peace (Diod. Sic. v. 31. 5), even 
when two armies were about to join battle. This 
probably refers to inter-tribal warfare. As to their 
judicial functions, Caesar writes (vi. 13) : ' They are 
held in great honour, for they decide generally 
regarding all disputes, public and private ; and, if 
any crime has been perpetrated, or a murder com- 
mitted, or if there be a dispute about property or 
al>out a boundary, they decide it. If any one, 
whether a public or private individual, has not 
submitted to their decrees, they interdict him from 
the sacrifices.' Such interdicted persons were re- 
garded as criminals, and all shunned contact with 
them ; in effect they were tabu. Caesar also adds 
that they met together yearly in a consecrated 
spot in tlie territory of the Camutes, the central 
district of all Gaul, and thitlier came all who had 
disputes and submitted to their judgments. Caesar 
may be referring to a bygone past rather than to 
existing practice, since he himself mentions dis- 
putes not settled by Druids, while nothing is said 
regarding any obligation to refer to Druidic judica- 
ture. That judicature was, however, far-reaching, 
and its judgments were upheld on magico-religious 
grounds. It is possible that the immolation of 
criminals taken in theft and other crimes was a 
punishment ordered by the Druids (Caesar, vi. 16), 
who would thus obtain a supply of sacrificial 
victims. If, as is here contended, the Dmids were 
a purely Celtic priesthood, the existence among 
the Galatian Celts of a council of 300 men who 
met in a place called drunemeton, and judged 
crimes of murder, may mean that this was a council 
of Druids (Strabo, XII. v. i. [p. 567]). Nemeton 
means ' a sacred place ' like that in which the 
Gaulish Druids sat as judges, whether dm is con- 
nected with the first term of dru-uidos or not. It 
should here be observed that Diogenes Laertins 
quotes a fragment of Aristotle in which the ex- 



DRUIDS 



87 



istence of Druids among the Galatians is asserted ; 
and there is also a later reference to this by 
Clement of Alexandria, who may, liowever, be 
simply echoing this passage. The Irish texts 
assign judicial functions to the flid, not to the 
Druids ; and, unless this is due to Christian influ- 
ence desirous of slighting the importance of the 
Druids, they may not have acted there as judges. 
If this be so, it is not easy to understand why, if 
Druidism came to Gaul from Britain, the Druids 
were able to assume judicial functions there. 
D'Arbois (p. 103) thinks, however, that the exer- 
cise of such functions by early Christian clergy in 
Ireland may be due to the fact that the pagan 
priests had a judicial position, and, if thsjilia were 
a Druidic class, they would then be carrying on 
the judicial functions of the Irish Druids. 

10. Supposed differences between Irish and 
Gaulish Druids. — The often-quoted ditterences 
between the Druids of Gaul and those of Ireland 
are perhaps more apparent than real. We know 
the former only from pagan observers ; the latter 
only from Christian observers, or from documents 
which have passed through Christian hands ; and 
it is probable that Christian influences may have 
endeavoured to reduce the Druids to the lowest 
possible level. 

Stress is sometimes laid upon the supposed lack of judicial 
functions and of organization among the Irish Druids, but it 
hafl been seen that it is possible to account for this discrepancy. 
More vital still is the assertion that the Irish Dniids were only 
magicians and not priests (Hyde, Lit. Hist, oj Irelandy London, 
1899, p. 88 ; Joyce, Soc. Uuit. oj Ant. Ireland,, London, 1903, i. 
239). It is true that in the Irish texts they have the appearance 
of mere wizards, but they are also teachers and iwssess political 
influence like the Druids of Gaul. The probability is, therefore, 
that they were also priests, as the Druids of Britain certainly 
were (Tac. Ann. xiv. 30, where the sacred grove, the human 
sacrifices, the altars, and the rites of divination of the Druids of 
Hona are mentioned). Why, then, are they not more frequently 
represented in that aspect? Probably for the same reason that 
there are such scanty references to ritual and reli^aon in the 
texts, and where these do exist they have evidently been 
tampered with. That reason appears to be that there was a 
deliberate suppression of all that related to religion or to the 
exercise of priestly functions. Thus, where in connexion with 
some rite there is recorded the slaughter of animals, it is 
most probable that the slaughter implies a sacrifice, though 
nothing is said of it. In such cases {f..Q. that of the election of 
% king, above, { 9) the Druids take a considerable part ; hence, 
U there was a sacrifice, we can hardly doubt that they were the 
sacrificers, and were, therefore, priests. In other notices of 
ritual which may have escaped being tampered with, the Druids 
at least take part in sacrifice and in other ritual acU. Finally, 
if the Dniids were not priests, what other bcxly of men exercised 
that function (for it is incredible that the Irish Celts were 
priestless)? The opposition of the Christian missionaries to the 
Druids shows that they were opposing not mere magicians, but 
men who were the determined upholders of the old religion, 
viz. its priests. 

Possibly the insistence on the magical powers of the Druids 
may account for the somewhat loose way in which the word 
• Druid ' is used in the texts. It is applied to kings and heroes, 
not merely to the strictly Druidic cla-ss, because they had learned 
and practised Druidic magic, while it is also applied to the 

f'riests or medicine-men of the successive colonists of Ireland, 
t is also said that the Tuatha D6 Danann, the euhemerized 
8^8, were masters of Druidism ; in other words, those gods 
possessed in a full degree one of the functions of the priests 
who served them, viz. magic. Priests and gwls were confounded 
together. Another difference between the Druids of Gaul and 
those of Ireland is that the former absented themselves from 
war (Csesar, vi, 14), while the latter certainly took part in it ; 
yet we find the Gaulish Druids on the battle-field exercising 
priestly or magical functions, while Caesar refers to the warlike 
prowess of the Druid Divitiacus, 

11, Dniidesses. — Towards the beginning of the 
4th cent. A.D., Lampridius (Alex, Hcv. 60) and 
Vopiscus (Aur. 44, Nuiner. 14) speak of certain 
women called Dmis, usually translated 'Dniidess,' 
who, as prophetesses or wise women, foretold events 
in the lives of the emperors or were consulted by 
them. As this is the lirst occurrence of the name, 
it is likely that such wise women assumed the 
Druidic name when the Druids as a cla-ss had died 
out. There is no evidence in earlier classical texts 
of the existence of a class of women called 
Drnidesses with functions corresponding to tho.se 
of the Druids, and such women as are here referred 



to were apparently divineresses, those Celtic 
women whom Hannibal desired to arbitrate in 
certain matters being probably an earlier example 
of this class (Plutarch, 3Iul. Virt. 246). In Ireland 
divineresses seem to have been associated with the 
fdthi 01 flid, and were called ban-filid or ban-fdthi, 
while they were consulted on important occasions 
(Windisch, Tdin, 31 ; Meyer, Contributions to Irish 
Lexicog., Halle, 1906, p, 176). They are probably 
the 'pythonesses' against wliom the Patrician 
canons utter a warning (Joyce, Soc. Hist, of Anc. 
Ireland, i. 238), and whose spells the saint praya 
against in his hymn (Windisch, Ir. Texte, i. 56). 
Solinus (xxxv.) says women as well as men in 
Ireland had a knowledge of futurity ; and the 
women whose fury, along with the prayers of 
Druids, was directed against the Romans in Mona 
may have been of the same class. Others, called 
ban-tiuithyaig in the tale of the battle of Magtured, 
had magical powers of transformation (BCel xii. 
93). Possibly all such women may later have been 
called ' Druiaesses,' since this name is occasionally 
met with in the texts, usually where the woman 
(in one case the goddess Brigit) is also called ban- 
fli, or 'poetess,' unless they were wives of Druids 
(Windisch, Tdin, p, 331; Book of Leinster, 756; 
BCel XV. 326, xvi. 34, 277). But in Ireland women 
also seem to have had certain priestly functions, 
since the nuns who guarded the sacred fire at 
Kildare had evidently succeeded to virgin guardians 
of a sacred fire, the priestesses of a cult which was 
tabu to men (Gir. Camb. Top. Hib. ii. 34 ft'. ; 
Stokes, Three Irish Glossaries, p. 33), while other 
guardians of sacred fires existed elsewhere in Ire- 
land (G, Keating, Hist, of Ireland, ed. Ir, Texts 
Soc, 1908, p, 331). In Britain, Boudicca performed 
priestly functions, invoking the gods and divining 
(Dio Cass, Ixii. 6). Inscriptions in Gaul show the 
existence of priestesses called antistes or antistita 
and flaminica sacerdos (at Aries and Le Prugnon 
[Jullian, Becherchea sur la rel. gaul., Bordeaux, 
1903, p. 100; Holder, s.D. ' Thucolis ']), who, like 
the priestess of Artemis among the Galatian Celts, 
whose priesthood was hereditary (Plutarch, Mul. 
Virt. 20), were attendants on a goddess. On the 
other hand, the Metz inscription referring to a 
Druis antistita is spurious (Orelli, 2200; Robert, 
Epig. de la Moselle, Paris, 1883, i. 89). The nine 
virgin priestesses of a Gaulish god on the Isle of 
Sena foretold the future, raised storms, and healed 
diseases, while they were said to transform them- 
selves into animals (Mela, iii. 48). Other women, 
who practised an orgiastic cult on an island in the 
Loire, probably had priestesses among their num- 
ber who directed the cult, as perhaps did also the 
virgins of Sena (Strabo, IV. iv. 6 [p. 198]). Though 
perhaps pre-Celtic in origin, these cults were 
acceptable to Celtic women, who must have had 
similar rites of their own. Reinacli regards the 
references to these island cults as based on the 
myth of Circe's isle [BCel xviii. 1ft'.); but tliere is 
no reason to believe that they had not been actually 
observed, even though the accounts are somewhat 
vague. If, as is likely, Celtic divinities were at 
first female, and agricultural rites were first in the 
hands of women, even when a strong priesthoocl 
had arisen, conservatism would here and tliere 
leave the ritual and its priestesses intact, wliile 
goddesses with a more or less strong personality 
may still have been served at local slirines by 
women. In the magical powers of witches we may 
further see the survival both of Druidic magic and 
of the priestly, prophetic, and magical powers of 
such priestesses. 

The fact that Caesar speaks of priestesses among the Germans 
but not among the Celts is sometimes regarded as proving that 
there were no Celtic priestesses. But we cannot suppose that 
Caesar gave a full account of Celtic religion, while the notices 
above referred to and the improbability that women had no 



83 



DRUIDS 



nUglonl tunctiona amonK the Celts niiiat be set af^kinst bis 
■Uenoa. Though the Druids mav have l)ecn an orKaiiizalion ot 
priMts, Md, though there were no 'Druiilesses,' there may yet 
have b*«n priestesses for some particular purposes. Just as there 
certainly were divinercsees. 

13. Disappearance of the Druids.— The extinc- 
tion of the r)rui<ls wa-s due to two causes : (1) in 
Gaul and S. IJriUin, to Koman opposition and the 
Romanizing of the native religion, and perhaps in 
some degree to Christian influences ; (2) in Britain 
beyond the Roman pale and in Ireland, entirely to 
the introduction of Christianity and the opposition 
of the Christian priesthood, liome did not attack 
the Dniids on religious grounds, strictly speaking, 
but (a) on political grounds, because the Druids 
had such power in politics and in the administration 
of justice, and opposed the majesty of Rome ; (6) on 

grounds of humanity, because the Druids offered 
uman sacrifices ; and, finally, (c) because of their 
magical superstitions. But this opposition implied 
little more at first than the application of existing 
laws against these things. Augustus prohibited 
Roman citizens from taldng part in the religio 
Druidarum (Suet. Claud. 25); and Pliny (xxx. 1) 
asserts that Tiberius interdicted ' the Druids and 
that race of prophets and doctors,' though it is 
probable that this was no more than putting into 
force the existing law against human sacrifices. If 
it meant a suppression of the Druids as such, it 
entirely failed of its object ; for they were still 
active in the reign of Claudius, who completely 
abolished the cruel religion of the Druids ('Druid- 
arum religionem apud Gallos dirae immanitatis, 
et tantum civibus sub Augusto interdictam, penitus 
abolevit,' Suet. Claud. 25). Here it is doubtful 
whether more than an abolition of human sacrifices 
and magical practices was intended, for Claudius 
put to death a Roman citizen of Gaul for appearing 
in court with a Druidic amulet, the so-called ser- 
pent's egg (Pliny, xxix. 3), and Aurelius Victor 
says that Claudius merely abolished the ' notorious 
superstitions' of the Druids (de Caesar. 4). The 
Druids were still in existence at a later time, the 
native religion still went on, and Mela (iii. 18) 
expressly says that human sacrifice was commuted 
to a little harmless blood-letting. The actual 
disappearance of the Druids was undoubtedly due 
less to such laws than to the Romanizing of Gaulish 
religion begun under Augustus, and to the institu- 
tion of the State religion, with its own priesthood. 
Whether the Druids were still allowed to assemble 
yearly at the consecrated place in the territory of 
the Carnutes (Cies. vi. 13) is doubtful, but tliey 
would certainly not be allowed to act as judges ; 
and the annual assembly of deputies from the 
towns of the three Gauls at Lugdunum (Lyons) 
round the altar of Augustus, with its obviously 
religious character, was probably intended to take 
the place of that assembly. A jftamen of the 
province was elected by the deputies, and there 
vferejlamens for each town. If the Druids wished 
to be recognized as priests, they would have to 
become priests of the new Gallo-Roman religion. 

Their position as teachers was also attacked by 
the establishment of schools, as at Autun, where 
sons of noble Gauls are found receiving instruction 
as early as A.D. 21 (Tac Ann. iii. 43). Thus, by 
an adroit ignoring of tlie Druids, as well as by the 
direct attack upon certain of their functions, the 
Roman power grfulually took away from them their 
occupation as native priests. D'Arbois (p. 73), 
however, maintains tliat there was a steady per- 
secution of the Druids, and, citing passages of 
Lucan and Mela, says that this caused them to 
retreat to caverns and forests, where they hid 
themselves, and still continued to teach the sons 
of noble Gaulish patriots. Lucan {Phar. i. 453), 
however, makes no reference to such a flight, and 
refers merely to the resumption by the Druids of 



their rites and teaching in forest glades where they 
dwelt, not where they hid themselves, after Ca'^ar*!* 
war, and he makes no reference to what took place 
after the laws against the Druids liad l)een pa.ssed. 
Mela (iii. 19), though writing in Claudius reign, 
does not appear to refer to secret teaching as a 
result of the laws, but, either amplifying Caesar's 
words or citing Posidonius, says that the Druids 
taught the sons of noble Gauls during a period of 
twenty years secretly in caverns or fore.st depths. 
He has obviously confused the twenty years' 
novitiate of those who intended to become Druids 
with the teaching given to others. The secret 
forest recesses were simply the consecrated groves 
where Druidic rites were carried on. There the 
Druids may have continued to teach, but probably 
the sons of noble Gauls took advantage of the 
Roman schools. This teaching would be permitted 
by Rome, so long as the Druids did not interfere 
in politics or practise human sacrifices. Moreover, 
Mela does not appear to hint that the commutation 
of human sacrifice was a secret rite ; it was rather 
part of the still permissible Druidic relirion. Those 
who practised the forbidden rites womd certainly 
be liable to punishment, but probably the bulk of 
the Druids succumbed to the new order of things. 
But Druids were still active after Nero's death, and 
took a prominent part in the revolt against Rome, 
while some projjhesied a world dominion for the 
Celts at the time of the burning of the Capitol at 
Rome in A.D. 70 (Tac. Hist. iv. 54). The mistletoe 
and herb rites of the Druids described by Pliny 
may have still existed in his day ; but he may be 
referring, like Lucan, to a former state of things. 
After this date the Druids seem gradually to have 
disappeared in Gaul and S. Britain, and were 
remembered only as philosophers. But even in 
the 4th cent., as the verses of Ausonius show 
(Pro/. V. 12, xi. 17), men counted it an honour to 
have a Druid for an ancestor. 

In independent Britain, Druidism remained as it 
had been (cf. Pliny, xxx. 1), and after the evacua- 
tion of Britain by the Romans the Druids seem 
to have re-appeared south of the Roman wall. 
Nennius {Hist. Brit. 40) describes how Vortigem, 
after being excommunicated for incest, called 
together his ' wise men ' (magi, tr. ' Druids ' in the 
Irish Nennius), who advised him to ofl'er a human 
Siicrifice at the building of a fortress. But neither 
in Christian nor in pagan Britain could the Druids 
withstand the growing powers of the Christian 
clergy. The lives of Celtic saints show how the 
Druidic magic arts were equalled and surpassed by 
the miracles of the saints, and how they were 
inevitably overcome, as is vividly seen in the 
encounters of Columba with the Druids in the 
north of Scotland, described by Adamnan. Simi- 
larly in Ireland, Christianity also destroyed the 
Druids ; and the Lives of St. Patrick, who com- 
bated 'the hard-hearted Druids' (Windisch, Ir. 
Texte, i. 23), and other Lives of saints, are full of 
the magical or miraculous deeds by which the 
heathen priests were discomfited. 1 he victory of 
Cliristianity over the Druids was, in popular belief, 
accomplished by a more powerful magic ; but, at 
the same time, though the Druids passed away, 
many of their beliefs remained among the people 
OS superstitions to which, perhaps, they attached 
as great importance as to Christianity (cf. Reeves' 
ed. of Adamnan, Vita S. Columbw, Dublin, 1857 ; 
Stokes, Three Middle-Irish Homilies, Calcutta, 
1877, p. 24f. ; Antient Laws of Ireland, i. 15). 

LrTERATURB. — The older writers, J. Toland, Hist, of the 
IMtid), London, 1726 ; J. Martin, Ret. de» Gavloi», Paris, 1727; 
E. Davies, Myth, and Riles of the liritUh Druids, London, 
1S09; G. Higgins, The Celtic Dntidit.Jjoniion, 1829, must be 
used with caution. More useful are D'Arbois de JubaiaviUe, 
C'ours de KU. celtiqve, i., Paris, 1883, Les Dmidet, Paris, 1900 ; 
T. Mommsen, Riim. Geich.», Leipzig, 1889, iii. 237, v. 94 It. ; A. 



DRUMS AND CYMBALS 



Bertrand, Nos Origines, iv. ' La Religion lies Gaulois,' Paris, 
1837 ; E. Lavisse and M. G. Bloch, Jlist. <U France, i. ii. ' Lcs 
Origines,' Paris, 19()0 ; A. Leftvre, Les Gaulois, Paris, 1900 ; 
G. Dottin, Manuel pour servir d I'etttde de I'antiquite celt., 
Paris, 190ti ; C. Renel, Les Religions de la Gaule avant le chris- 
tianisme, Paris, 1906 ; C. Jullian, Reche relies sur la relig. gaul., 
Bordeaux, 1903 ; P. W. Joyce, Soc. Hint, of Anc. Ireland, 
London, 1903 ; J. Rhf s, Celtic Heathendom, London, 1888, Celtic 
Britain-, London, 18S4 ; Duruy, 'Comment p6rit I'institution 
druidique,' iiil xv. 347; De Coulanges, ' Comment ledruidianie 
a disparn," RCel iv. 44 ; J. A. MacCnlloch, Religion of the 
Ancient Celts, Edinburgh, 1911. 

J. A. MacCulloch. 

DRUMS AND CYMBALS.— The drum is 'a 
musical instrument of the percu.s.sive class, consist- 
ing of a liollow cylindrical or hemispherical frame of 
wood or metal, with a ' ' head " of tightly stretched 
membrane at one or both ends, by the striking of 
which and the resonance of the cavity the sound is 
produced.' ' This definition hardly includes two 
types of drum which have played a more important 
^irt in social and religious evolution than any 
other — the incision-drum and the tambourine. 
The ordinary membrane-drum is composite in 
principle, combining in one structure the chief 
characteristics of both the tambourine and the 
homogeneous incision-drum. The actual genesis 
of the membrane-drum cannot l>e traced, though 
some speculations have been made on the sugges- 
tions supplied by various temporary drums and 
drum-substitutes. Clearly, like its two components, 
it has been independently invented by a fair pro- 
portion of the races of mankind. 

Methods directly or indirectly suggestive of 
drumming are either obvious or recondite to 
civilized experience. 

The Veddas have no musical instruments of any kind. In 
their dances they mark the rhythm by beating with the hands 
their chests, flanks, or bellies.'-i The Andamanese women Ijeat 
time for the dancers by slapping the hollow between the thighs, 
aa they sit s<fuatting on the heels, with the palm of the right 
hand, which is held at the wrist by the left.3 The same method 
is employed among the Australian aborigines, whose women 
invariably form the orchestra.-* This method is analogous to 
that of cymbals, as the Vedda method of beating the belly or 
chest ifi to that of the membrane-drum. Another method is 
common to several races. Thus, for an extemporized drum, 
the Chaco Inilians, who also employ a far more highly developed 
drum, sometimes use a bundle of skins tied into a package. 
This they beat with a stick. ^ In Australia the instrument, 
being the native rug or cloak of opossum-skin stretched across 
the hollow of the thighs, is analogous to the membrane of a 
drum. The women arc said to keep faultless time.<^ At 
Australian corrobborees * the women of the tribe, who take the 
part of musicians, are seated in a semicircle, a short distance 
from the large fire lit on these occasions, holding on their knees 
Dpoflsum rugs tightly rolle<l and stretched out. These are 
stmck by the right hand, in time with the action of the master 
of the ceremonies, usually one of the old men. He carries in 
each hand a corroblwree stick, and these are struck together. 
. . . This use of the opossum cloak and clanking of the sticks 
appears to be the most primitive form of musical instrument, 
if it can be so termed, amongst our aborigines.' 7 Mitchell 
speaks of the rolled opossum-skin rug as * the tympanum in its 
rudest fonn.''* In Western Victoria the rolled rug contained 
shells, producing a jingling sound.i* 

The .Sainoans at their dances used stretched mats, which were 
beaten with sticks, as well as the drum.io This method may or 
may not involve the ideas of a resounding cavity or vibrating 
membrane. For there may be no cavity, or the mat may be 
spread on a hard surface. But either cavity or membrane may 
be supplied by the accident of imitating the making of cloth. 
For Ijeating bark into cloth the Polynesians used a beam of 
wood with a groove on the lower side. This rested on the 
ground, and a wooden mallet was used to strike the bark. 
Owing to the groove, made for the purpose of steadiness, * every 
stroke produces a loud sound. . . . Heard at a distance, the 
flonnd of cloth-beating is not disagreeable.' ii In Mangaia, of 
the Hervey Islands, the cloth-beating mallet was used for 
drums, and mimic cloth-boards were beaten as drums at certain 

1 Hurray, OED, s.v. 'Drum.' 

'C. a. and B. Z. Seligmann, The Veddat, Cambridge, 1911, 
pp. 214, 217. 

3 E. H. Man, in JAI x\\. (1883) 131. 

4 A. W. Howitt, in J A I xiv. (1885) 304. 

» J. W. Fewkes, in li RII K IT (l»J7), p. 276. 

• K. L. Parker, The Kuahlayi Tribe, 1906, p. 122. 

' R. Etheridge, in JAI xxiii. (1894) 320f. 

5 F. L. Mitchell, Kastern A uttralia, 18:m. il. S. 

•J. Dawson, Australian Aborigines, Melltoume, 1881, p. 80. 
>o G. Pratt, Oict. a/ tlie Samuan Language, 1878, ».ti. ' Tata.' 
" W. Ellis, Polyn. Reuarehes, 1829, i. 179, 184. 



feasts.l The Bechuanas, who are the finest leather-makers in 
Africa, use at initiation feasts the method of the free membrane 
An ox-hide is held and tightly stretched by several men. This 
is beaten with sticks.'-^ 'The process is a repetition of one used 
in skin-preparation, here employed to produce ceremonial 
music. In old days the Chippewa made their war-drums by 
stretching a hide over stakes driven in the ground, and binding 
it in place by means of strong hoops.^ Covering a pot or clay 
cylinder with a head of skin is a common method of making 
both permanent and temporary drums.4 

Among historical peoples the drum is of very 
great antiquity. Its invention belongs to their 
pre-history ; its forms are the membrane-drum, 
tambourine, and kettle-drum. It was known in 
Vedic India, and a liymn in the Atharvaveda 
celebrates its praises.' The earliest records of 
China are familiar with the drum.^ The tambourine 
and double-headed drum were used by the Assyrians 
and Egyptians. The latter was supported against 
the drummer's body and played with both hands. 
Such an instrument is represented in a relief of 
Ashurbanipal (668-626 B.C.), in which women and 
children are clapping their hands." 

Certain peoples representing the lowest stages 
of culture known have failed to invent the drum, 
but in savagery generally, in all the stages ot 
barbarism, and in civilizations like that of India, 
its use corresponds with its importance as the chief, 
and sometimes the only, instrument of nmsic' 
The structural variations presented by the instru- 
ment are endless, but the types are clearly marked. 
These are eight in number. 

(1) The incision-drum is a hollow cylinder, 
varying in lengtli from a few inches to twelve or 
more feet, and in diameter proportionally. Made 
from a bamboo intemode or hollow tree, the ends 
are closed by the nodes or by the trunk sections. 
A narrow longitudinal slit, of varying length, but 
generally nearly as long as the cavity, is made on 
one side of the drum. Its width in the larger 
instruments is about three inches. The tapering 
of the lips is important, for the drumstick is 
applied to them, and the tones vary according to 
the thickness of the substance struck. This drum 
may be placed either in a vertical or in a horizontal 
position. The best results are produced from the 
latter. 

(2) The stamping -drum is a long hollow cylinder, 
one end of which is closed and the other left open. 
The ' heading ' of the closed end is either natural, 
as the node of a bamboo, or artificial, as a ' mem- 
brane' of skin. This instrument usually has a 
handle, by which the closed end is struck on the 
hard ground. 

(3) TheHngle-headedmembraTie-dnim is a wooden 
cylinder, whose length is not much more than its 
diameter. The tightly stretched membrane of 
hide is beaten \vith the fingers, the hand, or a stick. 
The stick, usually knobbed, sometimesof a liammer- 
shape, becomes a heavy-headed club for the larger 
drums. The other end of the drum is closed. 

(4) The double-headed membrane-drum is the 
single-headed witli the closed end removed and 
converted into a ' head.' This drum is placed in a 
horizontal position and Imth heads are used. 

(5) The frii:tiun-drum is (3) or (4) with a thong 
or cord stretched across the diameter of the head 
(one head in the case of the double-Iieaded drum), 
or along its radius, being fixed in tlie centre. A 

1 W. W. Gill, Myths and Sanaa from the South Pacific, 1876, 
pp. 262, 259. 

'' F. Uatzel, Uist. of Mankind, 189C-98, ii. 329. 

3 F. Densmorc. 'Chippewa Music,' Rull. l,S UE, 1910, p. 11. 

«See SO RBEW {\Mi), p. 84 f.; L. Frobcnius, Childhood of 
Man, 1909, pp. 96-08 ; W. B. Grubb, An Unknmm People in 
an Unknown Land, 1911, p. 178 ; Ratzel, ii. 829. 

'A. A. Macdonell, Vedw Mythology (01 AP ill. [Strassburg, 
1897) 166, quoting Athan. 20). 

« sea xxviii. (1885)90. 

7 J. D. Prince, in Klii, s.v. 'Music' 

1 See Crantz, Greenland, 1820, i. 102 ; T. 0. Hodson, The 
Hi'tga Tribes of Mani/mr, 1911, p. 64 ; A. Simson, in JAI xii. 
(1883) 24 ; Hatzel, ii. 320. 



00 



DRUMS AND CYMBALS 



small piece or splinter of wood may be inserted 
beneatii the thong. 

(6) The pot-drum is an earthenware vessel headed 
with a membrane. 

(7) The kclUe-drum is a metal vessel licaded with 
a membrane. Both (6) and (7) are single-headed 
closed drums. Type (6) tends towards the hemi- 
spherical shape of body ; (7) in its developed form 
is quite hemispherical. 

(8) The tambourine is a head of membrane 
attached to a cylindrical rim. On this are generally 
hung pieces of metal, according to the sistrum 
principle. The membrane is struck by a stick, 
more usually with the hand. 

'The drum,' saya Codrington, 'in many forms, maybe said 
to be the characteristic instrument of Melanesia.' It is, how- 
ever, absent from Florida and Santa Cruz, The incision-type 
fa employed. A joint or internode of bamboo, or a tree-trunk 
of suitable size, for the largest, is selected, and a longitudinal 
slit of varying decrees of narrowness is made along one side. 
The Up0 of this slit are very carefully tapered ; apparently the 
tone of the drum depends largely upon this detail. Small 
drums are held in the hands by dancers, but the large bamboo 
dninu are held by an assistant. Most of these big drums have 
% special hut in which they are stored. They are valued very 
highly and certainly are in a sense sacred. They are described 
as * very resonant and well toned, and can be heard at a great 
distance.' ^ 

Big drams were made from hollowed trees throughout 
Polynesia. The lips being thick, and the whole instrument 
more or less a mere ' dugout,' a heavy club was used by the 
drummer.2 

The canoe-drum is a remarkable type, used in the Fiji Islands, 
Java, and Assam. A hollowed tree-trunk, often twenty-five or 
thirty feet in length, with closed ends tapering upwards, and 
an orifice along its upper length just wide enough to admit the 
body, is obviously botli a canoe and an incision-drum of a large 
type. With two wooden mallets the operator beat on the Ups 
of the incision, which were curved inwards. In Fiji these 
drum-canoes are the lali, and are kept in sacred houses.s 
The signal drums of New Pomerania and South Congo are 
identical. They are small, being not more than two feet in 
length.4 The Malay peoples use a bamboo-stera with several 
internodes, each of which has the incision. As the diameter 
of the internodes increases, the scale, as with organ-pipes, 
descends.^ 

The Maori war-drum was of the incision type, but flat It 
was hung from a crosa-bar on a high scaffold, with the slit side 
underneath, and played from a platform half-way up the scaf- 
fold.fi This pahxi^ hung in a sort of watch-tower, approximates 
in a fashion to the bell. In the Philippines the Jesuits have not 
only used old signal-drums of incised Ijamboo as church-bells, 
but have reproduced them in wood for the same purpose.7 In 
the Tongan drums, from two to four feet in length, the chink 
ran nearly the whole length and was about three inches in 
breadth. The drum being u:ade from a solid tree-trunk, all 
the hollowing-out was done through the incision— a long and 
difficult operation. In playing this drum, the drummer with 
his stick, a foot long and as thick as his wrist, varied the force 
and rate of his beats, and changed the tones by beating ' towards 
the end or middle of the instrument. ' This drum was the naga, 
the kaara of the Uervey Islands. 

In Tahiti the drum used was the upright one-headed closed 
drum. A tree-trunk section was hollowed out, leaving a closed 
base. Shark's skin was stretched over the open top. This was 
the pahu ; its sacred form was the pahu ra. One in Tahiti was 
eight feet high, and was beaten with two sticks. 'The thrilling 
sound of the large drum at midnight, indicating a human 
sacrifice, was most terrific. Every mdividual trembled with 
apprehension of being seized.' ^ The kendang or gendang of 
Indonesia, as used by Dayaks, Bataks, Macassars, Buginese, 
and Javanese, in Borneo, and throughout the countries east of 
India, is of the Hindu type, a single-headed closed wooden 
drum, pkyed with the flngers.9 The American drum was either 
thepot-drum or the wooden single-headed membrane-drum. lo 

There is more variety of drums in Africa than 
elsewhere. Practically every form is found, and 
variations occur which are in some cases unique 
or extremely rare." 

1 B. H. Codrington, Tht Melanetiana, Oxford, 1891, pp. 838 f., 
176, 882, 840. 

• O. Brown, Melanesiant and Polynesians, 1910, p 419 

»S. E. Peal, In J.tl xxii. 262; Frobenius, 83, 91; Brown, 

• Frobenius, 84. 

» Skeat-Ulagden, Pagan Roots of Malay Penin., 1906. ii. 140 

• Frolienius, 92f. 7/6. 90f 
'Cook, Voyages, 1790, p. 1419; W. Ellis, i. 193, 195. 

» See Hatzol, 1. 194 ; Playfair, The Garos, 1909, p. 42 ; Wilken- 
Pleyte, IlamlkUHng voor de vergelijkeiuU Volkenltunde van 
KederlajulKh-lndU, Leyden, 1893, p. 111. 

10 .See E. F. Im TY\mn, Among ihe Indiana of Guiana 1883 
p. 309; A. O. Fletcher, in tS AbF.W (1904), pt. ii. p. 267; F." 



" For various African dmma, n» Hobley, BlhniAogy of A- 



The Roganda drum was made from a section of tree-trunk, 
conical in form ; the base of the cone alone was open. This was 
headed vnth a cow-hide, and this was the end kept uppermost. 
Some were ten inches high, others five feet, and four in greatest 
diameter. Some were Mautifully decorated with cowries and 
beads. Except in the case of the very large dnims, they were 
hung on posts, so as to get the full benefit of the sound. The 
skins were kept soft and elastic by being rubbed with butter.* 

The es.sential character of the snare-drum and 
friction-drum is the presence of a string or thong 
of leather across the membrane or drum-head. A 
simple form is from British Guiana. A fine double 
thread, with a slip-knot in the centre, is stretched 
across the membrane. Before it is drawn tight, 
an exceedingly slender splinter of wood is secured 
in the slip-knot, so as to rest on the membrane at 
right angles to the line of the thread. The other 
head of the drum being unaltered, the instrument 
gives two ditterent sounds. The friction-head 
produces, by the vibration of the splinter against 
the skin, a 'metallic sound.'' In another form 
the string extends along a radius only of the 
membrane." Such drums, besides producmg differ- 
ent tones from the two heads, can be muffled by 
placing a wad beneath the string. 

Small hand-drums are commonly used by various 
peoples.* 

Tne old English tabor is a type of these. The 
kettle-drum is not frequent. In the East the gong 
is preferred." 

The Greek and Roman drum (riiiiravov, tympanum) 
comprised two varieties of the tambourine type. 
The one was the flat tambourine ; the circumference 
was hung with bells. The other resembled the 
Lapp form, the under side being closed by a convex 
hemispherical bottom. This variety was also 
played with the hand like a tambourine.' 

The Heb. toph (Gr. Tii:.Tavov, EV 'tabret,' 
' timbrel ') was a simple tambourine, probably 
without bells or rattles.' Tlie same Heb. word 
represents both the English, and probably there 
was only one form. 

The tambourine, ' which was once among the 
chief instruments of the Lapland wizards, is now a 
great curiosity.' Two types were in use. One 
was a wooden hoop strengthened with two cross- 
pieces and covered on one side with reindeer-skin ; 
tlie other was an oval box with a convex under 
side, hewn out of a tree-trunk, and with a reindeer- 
skin head. In some there was a slit serving as 
a handle. Each tambourine had an ' indicator ' 
(arpa) consisting of a large iron ring, on which 
smaller rings were linked, for the purpose of divi- 
nation by means of pointing to the symbols on the 
membrane. The hammer was made of reindeer- 
horn. The Lopars treated their tambourines with 
great respect, and kept them, with the indicator 
and hammer, wrapped up in fur. No woman 
dared to touch them.^ 

The cymbal varies in form, from a disk of metal 
to a shallow hemispherical or half-oval cup, with 
or wichout a flange. Cymbals were known in 
early India, and are still used by the Hindus in 
ordinary and temple orchestras.' The Garos use 
two sorts of cymbals : the kakwa, like the Enro- 

Kamba, Cambridge, 1910, p. 32 f. ; A. Werner, British Central 
Africa, 1906, p. 225 ; A. B. Ellis, Tshi-si>eabing Peoples, 1887, 
p. 32C, Yortiba-speaking Peoples, 1894, p. IIS. 

' J. Roscoe, The Baganda, 1911, pp. 26, 407 f. 

2 Im Thurn, 808. 

'■> See H. Balfour, ' The Friction-Drum,' inJAI xxxvli (1807) 
67. 

•1 See O. Brown, 329 ; J. O. Dorsey, in IS RBEW (1896), p. 282 ; 
Skeat-Blftgden, ii. 140; J. J. M. de Groot, Rel. SyU. of China, 
Leyden, l«92ir., 1. 167; Ratzel, iii. 388. 

» See Ratzel, iii. 231 ; Wilken-Pleyte, 111. 

« Pliny, US ix. 109. ? Prince, l.c. 

8 0. Klemm, K%Uturqesch., Leipzig, 1843-62, iiL 90-99; 
J. Scheffer, Lapponia, Frankfurt, 1073, pp. 109 f., 180 f. ; V. M. 
Mikhailovskii, ' Shamanstvo," in J At xxiv. (1804-9,^) 62, 126 ; 
W. Radloff, Attn S^binen', Leipzig, 1893, ii. 18 ff. 

» A. A. Macdonell, 134 ; J. B. PadBeld, The Hindu at Home, 
Madras, 1896, p. 182. 



DRUMS AND CYMBALS 



91 



pean, and the nengilsi, a smaller kind resembling 
in shape two small cups of brass.' The European 
type 13 derived from the Gneco-Romaii. lUiese 
were quarter- or half -globes of metal with a flange. 
An older form is possibly indicated by the ' bronze 
vessels ' used in the ceremonial dismissal of family 
nianes by the Roman paterfamilias.^ The Roman 
cymbals were either without handles or provided 
with a knob or ring or metal handle ; others had a 
hole for the insertion of a cord. The unflanged, 
early Semitic type was also known.' The Khasias 
use cymbals in combination with drums.'' The 
Chinese drummer usually employs one pair of 
cymbals.' The Abyssinians have tambourines, 
cymbals, and various drums." 

In modern European orchestras they hold a not 
unimportant place. 

Only in the case of one people, the Hebrews, 
have cymbals attained independent importance. 
They were employed in dances and singing with 
the toph, but in the Temple were used alone. 

The cymbals of the Hebrews (m'^^tayim, ^el^^Um, icvti^aXa) 
were used in the temple-worship to mark time for chants. 
They were bronze ' disks,' held, one in each hand, and clashed 
together, ^e/f'ilm is used only in 2 S 6= and Ps 1603. in the 
latter passage the epithets ' loud ' and ' high-sounding ' are ap- 
plied. It has been supposed, therefore, that the fetf^lim were 
the conical tlangeless cymbals, as used by the Assyrians, giving 
a highly-pitched note. In 1 S 186 shcUtshlnit foi^^oAa, cannot 
refer to cymbals. According to the Mishna and Josephus, one 
pair only was used in the Temple, It is not likely that itpifi.' 
fia\a, sistra, castanets, are ever connoted by the terms in'^il- 
tayim s.n(i^elif^tiin. It is possible that in the case of the Temple 
cymbals one disk was tixed, and was beaten by the other like a 
clapper. In later Mishnaic the noun used is in the singular 
The cymbalists were Levites. In the Second Temple 



number, 
a 81 



ipecial officer had the charge of the cymbals, which are stated 
to have been of great antiquity. Their sound is described as 
hi^h, loud, and far-carrying. It has been suggested that the 
* tmkling cymbal ' of St. Paul's simile implies the metallic 
spheres worn on bridles and by courtesans on their belts. This 
a^ees better with the epithet aAoAa^oi/.? 

The use of the drnm as an instrument of society, 
and probably the art itself of dmm-playing, have 
their highest development in Africa. The only 
national instrument that can approach the drum 
of the African is the pipes of the Scot. But the 
skill with the drum is more widely difl'used among 
the Africans. Uganda in the old days supplies a 
typical example of a drum-conducted community. 

The chief drums of the Baganda were the royal, called muja- 
9^0, ninety-three in number. Fifty-one of these were smalL 
They were guarded by a chief, kauruka^ and his assistant 
wakimuxmura. Drummers took their turn of a month's resi- 
dence each year in the royal court for Iwating the drums. A 
particular drum belonged to each chieftainship. The numer- 
ous totem-clans had each special drums ; the leading members 
defrayed the expense. Kvery chief, besides his drum of office, 
had his private drum. This was beaten from time to time to 
ensure his permanent holding of office. Each clan had a special 
rhythm which wa« recognized.8 

Drum-playing calls for considerable executive 
skill, particularly on account of the rebound of 
the memVirane. It is in the utilization of this re- 
bound that the essence of the drummer's art con- 
sists. Even with the heaviest drums no great 
force is required. The weight of the blow varies 
as the thickness of the membrane. In the case of 
large incision-drums, where the body serves as a 
membrane, the lips are finely tapered, and very 
resonant notes are produced V>y the use of a light 
stick. Various forms of drum-stick have been 
mentioned incidentally. 

The Baganda drummer used two short but heavy sticks, 
club-shaped. ' The vibration from the large drums was so great 
that a man who did not understand how to beat them might 
have his shoulder dislocated by the rebound of the leather when 

1 Playfair, 44 f . ' Frazer, OB s iii. 89. 

> Smith, fir,'Roman Ant.^, s.v. 'Cymbalum.' 

* Trant. FAhn. Soc. vii. (18«9)309. 

» De Groot, 1. LIT. 8 Ratzel, iii. 231. 

' Prince, in EBi, f.v. 'Mnsic' ; Ezr 310 ; Jos. Ant. vil. jii. 3 ; 
E. O. Hirsch, in JB, t.v. 'Cymbals' ; Mishn. 'Ar. 13a ; 1 Ch 
ie«, Ps 150», 1 Co 181. Of. 1 Ch 1616- >»■ as 165 269, 2 ch 513 2920. 
Neh 12". 

• J. Bonoe, 26-8a 



struck. Music could be got from these dnnns, so much so 
that any one a mile away would scarcely believe that a drum, 
and not some other instrument, was being played.' 1 In the 
New Hebrides big wooden billets are used for beating the 
largest incision-drums. High notes, in concerted music, are 
supplied by small horizontal incision-drums. These are beaten 
' in brisk syncopated time, to the loud boomings of the bigger 
drums.' 3 

For the psychological study of music by which 
the social and religious importance of the artistry 
of sound is destined to be explained, the music of 
drums and cymbals supplies unique data, and the 
drum-music of such races as the Central African, 
the American Indian, and his congener the North- 
ern Asiatic (the Melanesians are, artistically, in a 
lower class) forms one of the most indispensable 
documents.' 

The fact is that the music of the drum is more 
closely connected with the foundations of aurally 
generated emotion than that of any other instru- 
ment. It is complete enough in itself to cover 
the whole range of human feeling, which is not 
the case with its subordinate, the cymbals, while 
it is near enough to the origins of musical inven- 
tion to appeal most strongly to the primitive side 
of man's nature. The investigator will need a 
long experience and adaptation to the atmosphere 
in whicn the vibrations of drum and tambourine 
produce their emotional waves. To compare, 
as an early explorer did, the orchestral drum- 
music of negroes to ' the raging of the elements 
let loose,' * is no longer an explanation of primitive 
music. To put it briefly — the emotional appeal 
of music is to a very large extent muscular. 
Rhythm is practically a neuro-muscular quality, 
and it is the fundamental form of musical sound. 
Most of our emotions tend to produce move- 
ment.' Harmonious rhythm in movement and 
action is the soul of society, as it is the soul of 
the dance. 

' In all primitive music, rhythm is strongly developed. The pul- 
sations of the drum and the sharp crash of the rattles are tiirown 
against each other and against the voice, so that it would seem 
that the pleasure derived by the performers lay not so much in 
the tonality of the sons; as in the measured sounds arranged in 
contesting rhythm, and which by their clash start the nerves 
and spur the body to action, for the voice which alone carries 
the tone is often subordinated and treated as an additional 
instrument.' 1 Ilelmholtz observed : ' All melodies are motions. 
Graceful rapidity, grave procession, quiet advance, wild leap- 
ing, all these different characters of motion and a thousand 
others can be represented by successions of tones. And, as 
music expresses these motions, it gives an expression also to 
tho.se mental conditions which naturally evoke similar motions, 
whether of the body and the voice, or of the thinking and feel- 
ingprinciple itself.' 7 

To increase muscular power the strongest stimu- 
lus is muscular movement ; to produce emotional 
intoxication the combination 01 muscular move- 
ment that is rhythmical with rhythmical sound 
(or motion translated into music) is the most 
eflTicient. One great sphere of drum-music has 
been the social emotions. Not only military, re- 
ligious, and sexual excitement, but every possible 
form of social orgiasticism has been fostored and 
developed by its influence. It is a sigiiilicant co- 
incidence that the boom of the modern cannon 
and the boom of a primitive drum mean war. In 
contrast to this large, impressive sound, which is 
so essentially organic in its nature and its pro- 
duction, may be placed the exclusively religious 
u.se of cymbals by the Hebrews, and the promi- 
nence of cymbal-music in the perverted sexualiam 

i/ft. 26f. 

2 B. T. Somervillc, in JAl xxiii. 11 f., 384. 

3 See F. Densmore, 6, 137. 

* O. Schweinfurth ; see Ratzel, ii. 329. 

6 See J. B. Miner, 'Motor, Visual, and Applied Rhythms' 
(Psi/r.hotogieal Review, Monograph Supplements, v. 4 (1II03|); 
S. Wilks, in Medical Mayazine., Jan. 1894 ; VVundt, Volker- 
pui/choloffie, Leipzig, 1904 f., i. 265 ; K. Wallaschek, Primitive 
Music, 1893, paagim. 

9 A. C. Fletcher, ' I.ove Songs among the Omaha Indians,' in 
Proc. Intemat. Cmu/r. 0/ Anthropolmi/, Chicago, 1893. 

■> Ilelmholtz, On the Sensations of fane, tr. A. J. Ellis' 1885. 
p. 260. 



99 



DRUMS AND CYMBALS 



of tlie cult of Attis.' These two lost cases arc 
isolated phenomena. The music of the drum is 
more cumplutely liunian. 

Lastly, the luusculiir apiical of the drum is made 
powerful by the verj; limitations of the instrument. 
Tlie player is practically confined to rhythm, and 
the inlluuntial manipulation of this depends on his 
personality. He is one with his drum. It is this 
translation of human meaning and will into 
sound that explains the so-called 'drum-language.' 
Further, the player's muscular skill and muscular 
life are at their highest efficiency ; he is for his 
hearers an inspirer, a leader, and a prophet, the in- 
dividual representative of the social body in move- 
ment and in emotion. It is on this principle that 
the drum in so many races gives the summons for 
all social functions. The blow of the drum-stick 
translates itself not merely into sound, but into a 
spiritual reverberation, an impulsive stroke upon 
the social consciousness. 

The meaning of drum-sounds is thus of a uni- 
versal, undifi'erentiated character ; they appeal 
primarily to the muscular sense, and secondarily 
to all that is built up on that foundation. An 
instance of the simplest possible application may 
be contrasted with others more or less elaborate : 

Explaiuinff the route to Spirit-land to the soul of a dead 
chief, the Chippewa punctuates his words with sharp drum- 
taps.2 'To a European," says Ellis, 'the rhythm of a drum 
expresses^ nothhiff beyond a repetition of the same note at 
different intervals of time ; but to a native it expresses much 
more. To him the drum can and does speak, the sounds pro- 
duced from it forming words, and the whole measure or rhythm 
a sense. In this way, when company drums are being played 
at an ehsudu, they are made to express and convey to the by- 
standers a variety of meanings. In one measure they abuse 
the men of another company, stigmatising them as fools and 
cowards ; then the rhythm changes, and the gallant deeds of 
their own company are extolled. All this, and much more, is 
conveyed by the beating of drums, and the native ear and mind, 
trained to detect and interpret each beat, is never at fault. 
The language of the drum is as well understood as that which 
they use in their daily life. Each chief has his own call or 
motto sounded by a particular beat of his drums.' 3 

Klark declares that * the sound of the tambourine, the con- 
vulsive antics of the shaman, his fierce screams, his wild stare 
in the dim light, all strike terror into the hearts of semi- 
savage people, and powerfully affect their nerves.' * The char- 
acter of this tambourine-music has been thus described : 
After some preliminary sounds such as that of a falcon or a 
sea-mew, which concentrate attention, ' the tamljourine begins 
to make a slight rolling noise, like the buzzing of mosquitoes : 
the shaman has begun his music. At first it is tender, soft, 
vague, then nervous and irregular like the noise of an approach- 
ing storm : it becomes louder and more decided. Now and 
then it is broken by wild cries ; ravens croak, grebes laugh, 
sea-mews wail, snipes whistle, falcons and eagles scream. The 
music becomes louder, the strokes on the tambourine become 
confused in one continuous rumble ; the bells, rattles, and small 
tabors sound ceaselessly. It is a deluge of sounds capable of 
driving away the wits of the audience. Suddenly everything 
stops ; one or two powerful blows on the tambourine, and then 
it falls on the shaman's lap.' ^ 

To peoples like the Central Africans, the drum, 
apart from its directly emotional use in social 
gatherings, as an instrument of social intoxica- 
tion, plays the part of the church-bell, the clock, 
the town-crier, and the daily newspaper, besides 
being naed for religious music and the exhortation 
of the sick. 

In Africa (Lake Nyasa) the drum is used at dances, at feasts 
religious and secular, at wakes, by doctors at the sick-bed by 
boatmen to time the paddles, and to send messages over the 
country." Among the Woolwa Indians the drum is played 
when dnnk is offered to the guests at mtsAfo-drinkings ^ Of 
theBaganda drums, Roscne writes: ' The drum W!w indeed nut 
to a multitude of uses, quite ap.art from music : it was the 
instrument which announced both joy and sorrow ; it was used 



I \?''J?''"^.™' ""^ "' cymbals in the worship of Dionysus and 
m the Eieusinian Mysteries belongs rather to the category of 
the impressivencss of noise, as such. 

2 Densniore, 54. 

» Tshispeaking Peoplet. S26 f. 

* Mikhailovskii, in JAI xxiv. 66. 

hiUlovsklf "94"" ""'*' '" *° '^''"''■**" 'S»«™«*, quoted by Mik- 
««"(«.■ *"*■"""> '"•'■^^ "l- 207. 333 f.; J. H. Weeks, t». 380, 
' H. A. Wiokham, \dJAI xxiv. 204. 



to let people know of the happy event of the birth of children, 
and it announced the mourning for the dead. It gave the 
alarm for war, and announced the return of the triumphant 
warriors who had conquered in war. It had its place in the 
most solemn and in the most joyous ceremonies of the nation.* 
The royal drums were Ijeateil to' announce the coronation of a 
king, and his entry into a new house, and also at the new 
moon. Drums were carried on journeys and beaten to encour- 
age the walkers. A young man would'lieat the drum with his 
hands and sing meanwhile. * The people when carrying loads, 
or when on a inarch, loved to be accompanied by the drum, 
and, if they had no drum, they sang songs, and set the time for 
marclUQg by the song.' 1 

Its co-operative and socializing^ importance is here well sug- 
gested. lU most spectacular use is that of a postal, telegraphic, 
and telephonic service. 

The carrying power of these fine instruments 
renders communication very rapid. The big drum 
of the Anyanja can be heard at a distance of six 
miles.' 'Tlie Chippewa drum, which is not two 
feet high, can be heard at a distance of ten miles.' 
As the drum-telephone is used to-day in Central 
Africa, it depends on an elaborate code, which to 
one reared in the atmosphere is perhaps more de- 
pendent on social understanding and mutual recog- 
nition of ' tone-variations ' than on a colourless 
translation of sounds into letters. At any rate, 
throughout a very large tract of Central Africa, 
daily by means of the drum two or more villages 
exchange their news. Travellers, even Europeans, 
have obtained food and lodgings by its means. 
The notes used can be imitated by tapping the 
cheek when the mouth is open. ■• An apt method 
is here implied for native practice, since it is the 
aperture- or incision-drum that is used for the 
sound-messages. Dennett's account of actual 
messages sent by drum is all the more valuable 
because it is free from any attempt to heighten 
the effect." He notes that this system gives the 
key to a perennial puzzle, revived during the Boer 
War, How does news travel among the natives in 
the speedy way it does '/ The drum-message sys- 
tem IS found in New Guinea, and among the 
Jivaros of South America, the old Mexicans, and 
some Indians of the North- West. It is particularly 
developed in Oceania, the countries north-west 
and north-east of New Guinea, especially New 
Pomerania. Signalling by means of the incision- 
drum, but without any highly developed code, 
was used in Borneo, Java, the Philippine.s, New 
Zealand, the New Hebrides, Fiji, and the Hervey 
Islands.* 

Throughout Melanesia, drums are part of a rich 
man's establishment. The top of these drums is 
fashioned into a grinning face. When the drum 
is an image of a venerated ancestor, the taps are 
made on the stomach.' In Melanesia, ancestor- 
worship is linked to the civil and military au- 
thority by these instruments, half-drum and half- 
image. It is natural also for rulers and important 
persons to collect round them as many sources of 
mana as possible, though they may leave the more 
recondite applications of supernatural power to 
the shamans. In the Upper Nile regions the 
' sacred ' official drums han^ in front of the chiefs 
house, or under the sacred tree of the village. 
They are regarded with awe.* The regalia of a 
chief are, as it were, his sacra. These may come 
to be identified with the mysterious power of liis 
office. In other cases, the drum may be regarded 
as the mouthpiece of a god or spirit, as containing 
the voice of the god or the god himself. This 
voice, in the lower cultures, derives impressive- 
ness not from stillness or smallness, but from 
loudness and resonant power. 
Some miscellaneous examples are appended of 
1 J. Eoscoe, The ISaijanda, 26, 27, 29. 
' A. Werner, p. '225. 5 Densmore, 12. 

4 Frobenius, S4 f. 

' B. E. Dennett, At Vu Back of (he Blaek Man't Mind, 1906, 
p. 77 9. 
lUtzel, i. 37, ii. 22 ; Frobenius, 86-93. 
' Ckidrington, in J A I x. (1881) 295. 8 Batzel, iii. S9. 



DRUMS AND CYMBALS 



93 



the beliefs and ritual connected with the sacred- 
ness of drums. 

The rejjalia of Malay States includes the court and official 
drums, wlucb are sacred. The royal drums of Jelebu are said 
to be ' headed ' with the skins of lice, and to emit a chord of 
twelv^e different sounds ; the royal trumpet and the royal gong 
also emit the chord of twelve notes. The Sultan of Minang- 
kabau wakes daily to the sound of the royal drum (gandang 
nobat)- These drums are regarded as having conie into exist- 
ence by their own will. ' Itain could not rot them nor sun 
blister them ' ; any person who even ' brushed past them ' 
would be felled to the ground by their magic power. In the 
State drum of Selangor resided the jin karaja'an, or 'State 
demon' ; and powerful ^("Hn dwelt in the other royal drums. i 

Kach temple and house of a chief in West Africa has a tall 
drum (ffbedu) covered with carvings. This drum had a pro- 
tecting spirit, that, namely, of the Save who was sacrificed on 
it when it was made. It is beaten only at rehgious ceremonies. 
Before being struck, it receives an offering of blood and palm- 
wine, which is poured on the carvings.^ 

Tane, the Polynesian god, was more or less represented by 
his sacred drum. These drums were often surmounted by 
carved heads ; and possibly the evolution here is from drum 
to idol. While the drum retained its membrane, a connexion 
would be traced between its sound and the voice of the god.3 
When the special royal drimi, kaula, of the Baganda received a 
new skin, the blood" of the cow whose skin was used was run 
into the drum. Also a man was beheaded, and his blood was 
run into it. The idea was that, when the drum was beaten, 
the life of the man added fresh life and vigour to the king. 
When any drum was fitted with a new skin, the ox killed for 
the purpose also supplied the blood for pouring into the drum. 

Every drum contained its fetish. Renewing the fetish was 
as necessary as renewing the skin, and the two operations were 
simultaneous. These fetishes were concrete objects of the 
familiar African type. It was not every man who knew how 
to make a drum-fetish. A characteristic drum-fetish was that 
of the drum of Dungu, god of hunting. It was composed of 
portions of every kind of animal and bird hunted ; all kinds 
of medicines used in making charms for bunting ; miniature 
weapons, and pieces of cord used in making traps. This fetish 
was fixed upright in the drum.* 

The clan Oomba of the Baganda had a drum, nakan^uzi. A 
runaway slave, if he reached its shrine, became the servant of 
the drum, and could not be removed. Any annual straying 
thither became the property of the drum, a sacred animal, free 
to roam.5 A crimmal among the Marotse of Africa escapes 
punishment if he can reach and touch the drums of the king.s 

In Vedic India the drum was not only beaten, 
bnt invoked, to drive away danger, demons, and 
enemies. It was nsed in sacrifices, and in battle ; 
the warrior offered it worship. Before being 
played, a vuintra, or cliarm, was spoken into it.'' 
The analogy between thunder and the boom of 
the drum is obvious. Russian peasants used tlie 
drum to imitate thunder, by way of a charm for 
the production of rain.* The natives of Guiana 
prefer the skin of the baboon or * howling monkey ' 
For the heads of their drums, believing that a drum 
so fitted possesses * the power of emitting the roll- 
ing, roaring sounds for which this monkey is cele- 
brated.** The Timorese regard cymbals as the 
home of spirits.*** Such beliefs are found with all 
musical instruments. 

The essential instrument of Christian temple- 
worship has been, from a very early period, the 
organ. No doubt an impulse of antagonism to 
pagan ritual prevented the early Christians from 
adopting pagan instruments. Only perhaps in 
Abyssinia, and in the modern Salvation Army, 
has the drum found a place. Drums do not appear 
to have been used bv the Hebrews in temple- 
worship. The usual drum, toph^ of the tambour- 
ine type, was used in processions, at weddings, 
and feasts, and to accompany religious music of 
a joyous and popular character. ^^ But in the great 
Oriental religions, particularlj^ in Hinduism and 
Buddhism, the drum has an important place in 

1 W. W. Skeat, Malaj/ Magic, 1900, pp. 26-28, 40 f. 

9 A. B. Ellia, Vortiba-gpeakinq Peoples, 100. 

» H. C. March, in JAI xxii. (1893) 328. 

* J. Rowjoe, 27 f., 312. « lb. 167. 

« A. St H. Gibbons, Exploration and Hunting in Central 



Africa, 1806-96, 1898. p. 129. 
^ Macdonell, 1G5 ; SB" " 
berg, 39. 



^ Macdonell, IG5 ; SBE xli. 23, 26, xlii. 77, 117, 180 ; Olden- 



8 W. Mannhardt, Antilce Wold- und FeldkulU, Berlin, 1877, 
p. 842. 

•E. F. ImThum, 30Sf. 

10 Riedel, in Dmttsehe Geograplusehe Blotter, x. 278 f. 

u Prince. Le,; 1 Mac (K», Ex Ifi^o, P» 813, 2 8 68, 2 Oh 5J2f. 



the temple-worship ; nor is it unknown in the 
worship of Isliim. In lower cults the drum serves 
as a church-beli, an organ, and a direct vehicle of 
supernatural power. ^ 

The Baganda temple-drums were next in importance after 
the ro3'al drums. Each had its particular rhythm and par- 
ticular fetish. They were beaten at feasts and at the time of 
the new moon, warning- the people of the monthly rest from 
work. 2 In New Guinea, drums are beaten to drive awaj' the 
ghosts of men slain in battle ; in New Britain, to stop earth- 
quakes.s Demons are expelled by South African drummers.4 
In the Moluccas the drum is employed against evil spirits 
causing dillioult child-birth. 5 In Central Africa demons are 
driven away with guns and drums at funerals and before 
death.6 Dayak women and shamans alike use the drum to 
cure the sick.? In China, scapegoats are driven away to the 
music of drums.s Greek historians record the ' disinfecting ' of 
ambassadors by Turkish shamans by means of the drum ; 'J and 
the use of it to drown the cries of children offered to Molech.iO 
The ska-ga, or shaman, of the Haidas undertakes to drive 
away the evil spirit which possesses the sick. His chief imple* 
ments are the drum and the rattle.n The exorcism of an evU 
spirit causing disease is carried out by the Wanika medicine- 
man in the centre of a band, playing drums and shouting.13 
The Patagonian doctor beats a drum by the sick man's bed to 
drive out the spirit.i^ The Asiatic shamans use the drum to 
cause spirits both to appear and to disappear.!^ 

There is always something very human about 
the use of drum-music, even wlien applied to 
spiritualities. At an Eskimo feast the drums are 
beaten softly when the traders' goods are brought 
in ; loudly when the guns are brought, so that the 
shades of animals present may not be alarmed.** 
For induction of spirits, the principle may be that 
of a summons or of an invitation.*® 

An old Motu-motu man observed to Chalmers : ' No drums 
are beaten uselessly ; there are no dances that are merely 
useless.' The young men, for instance, are bidden to beat the 
drum and dance that there may be a large harvest.^? The 
Papuan's remark applies universally. Tshi priests work them- 
selves into an inspired state by dancing to the music of the 
drums. Each god has a special hymn accompanied by a special 
beat of the drum.i** In ancient Israel the priests prophesied to 
the music of harps, psalteries, and cymbals.^s* Among the 
Chaco Indians the boys during initiation are called 'drums,' 
from the fact that during this period the village drums are 
beaten incessantly day and night by relays of men.20 Among 
the Port Moresby natives (New Guinea) the boys at initiation 
have only one serious duty, which is for each to make his 
drum. They are tabu, and live in the forest until the drums 
are completed ; this may be a week or a month. Several bo}^ 
go together. 'A straight branch is selected and cut to the 
requisite size ; this is next scraped with shells till the orthodox 
shape is arrived at; finally, the cavity is carefully and labori- 
ously burnt out.' During the whole period thej' observe minute 
rules : if they were seen by a woman ' the drum would have to 
be destroyed, otherwise it would be certain to split, and would 
sound like an old cracked pot.' If they eat fish the skin of the 
drum will burst ; red bananas cause a dull tone. They may 
not touch fresh water, but only that found in the stems of 
bananas, or coco-nut milk. Should they touch water inad- 
vertently before the drum is hollowed out, they break it, 
crying : ' I have touched water, my firebrand is extinguished, 
and I can never hollow out my drum.' The sorcerers instruct 
them that water extinguishes the * fire ' of the music ; a fish- 



iCf. J. Mooney, in lU RDEW (1896), p. 726; J. G. Kohl, 
Kitchi-GamHJ£.nfS- tr. 18G0), i. 59 ff. 

2 J. Uoscoe, 28, 297, 312. 

3 Haddon, Head-hunters, 1901, p. 308 ; van der Roest, in Tijd. 
voor Ind. Taal-, Land-, en Volkenkunde, xl. (1808) 157 f. 

•1 J. Macdonald, Religion and Myth, 1893, p. 100 flf. 
5 Riedel, De sluik- en kroesharige rassen tusscficn Selebes en 
Papua, Hague, 1886, pp. 265, 449, 175. 
« J, Macdonald, In JAI xxii. 114 f. 

7 O. A. Wilken, in Bijd. tot de Taal-, Land; en Volkenk. van 
Ned.-Indie, v. 2(1887), p. 610. 

8 J. H. Gray, China, 1S78, ii. 306. 

9 FHO (ed. C. Miiller) iv. 227. 

10 Plut. de Super 8t\ii»yiie, 13. 

11 G. M, Dawson, 'The Ilaida Indians of the Queen CTharlotte 
Islands,' in Geol. Surv. Can., 1878-79, p. 122. 

12 J. L. Krapf, Eastern Africa, Eng. tr. 1800, p. 189. 

13 M. Dobrizhoff er, A ccount of the Abipones, Eng. tr. 1822, ii. 262. 
i*J. Georgi, Les Nations samoycaea et mandshoures, St. 

Petersburg, 1777, p. 140. 

IS 18 RBEW {l^'d^), p. 383. 

18 Of. Stannus, in JAI xl. 313: A. B. Ellis, Tshi-speaking 
Peoples, 125; Im Thurn, 339; Skeat, 512; Kniiit, Het Anu 
misme in d. ind. Archipel, Hague, lOOfi, p. 445 ; J. H. Meerwaldt, 
in Med. N.Z.G. i. (1907) 98; G. A. Wilken, I.e.; Frazer, QB^ 
ii. 196; Sheane, in JAI xxxvi. (1906)162; Weeks, in JAI xl. 
372, 404. 

17 J. Chalmers, Pioneering in New Guinea, 1887, p. 181. 

18 A. B. Ellia, Tshi-speaking Peoples, 120 fl. 

w 1 Oh 251-8, 2 S 6». «> Grubb, 178. 



94 



DRUNKENNESS 



bone t«ara the tympanum ; and the sight ol a woman destroya 
the tonc.i 

The basket-drum of some American tribes re- 
calls not only primitive substitutes for the drum, 
but certain features of agricultural rituals. 

In their sacred rites the Navahos use an inverted basliet in 
lieu o( a drum. It is finely made by the women from twigs of 
sumach, wound in helix form, and when Inverted the basket is 
nearly hemispherical. During ceremonies it is beaten with the 
sacred drum-sticlc. This is made according; to elaborate rules 
from the leaves of Ywxa baccata. The Navahos say, ' We turn 
down the basket,' when they refer to the commencement of a 
■onp ; * We turn up the basket,' when a song is finished. As it 
is raised, hands are waved in the same direction, to drive out 
the evil influence which the sacred songs have collected and 
imprisoned under the basket.* 

It is no sacrilege to serve food in this sacred 
drum. To do so is common enough, but witliout 
ceremonial meaning. In Grreco-Roman cults, such 
as the mysteries of Attis, eating sacred food from 
the sacred drum and cymbal was probably a re- 
version to primitive times, when platter, drum, 
basket, ana winnowing-fan were interchangeable. 

The use of the tamoourine by the shamans of 
Northern Europe and Asia is remarkable. This 
instrument and its shamanistic manipulation are 
found in a belt which almost completely surrounds 
the world in northern parallels, through Asiatic 
Russia, Greenland, Northern America, and Lap- 
land, and among Amerindians, Mongols, Tatars, 
and Lapps.* The structure of this hand-drum has 
already been described. Those used by Americans, 
Tatars, and Mongols have pictorial designs on the 
drum-head. The designs are supposed to produce 
or modify the Sounds, and each, being thus a sort 
of word or sentence accompanied by pure sound, 
has its particular influence on the spirits who are 
invoked by the music* The Lapp shaman's drum 
has small brass rings fastened loosely on the head. 
These move and dance over the designs inscribed 
when the head is beaten with the hammer ; and, 
according to their movements in relation to the 
magic signs of sun, moon, and planets, the slia- 
man predicts the future.' The origin of this 
method, which, it is to be noted, is always second- 
ary to the musical or 'suggestive' use of the 
instrument, may be from the following practice : 
the Yakut shaman places a ring or coin on the 
palm of the inciuirers hand, moving it about in 
various directions, and then foretells the future.' 
The Votyak tuno moved beans on a table for the 
same purpose.' 

It IS suggestive of hypnotism rather than of 
music to find that the drum is tuned up by holding 
it in front of the fire. A drumstick or the hand 
is used in playing. The tambourine plays the 
main part- in the kamlanie, the invocation of 
spirits and subsequent prophesying. The Chukchi 
shaman in his kamlanie taps the tambourine with 
a piece of thin whalebone. The kam uses the 
tambourine in various ways, and produces the 
most varied sounds. The spectators recognize 
the various rhythms, such as the tramping of 
horses' feet, during which the kam is supposed to 
be riding with his guards. As he taps, he collects 
spirits in the tambourine. Sometimes during the 
collection of spirits the tambourine becomes so 
heavy that the kam bows under the weight.* 

LiTBBAioBB.— This is fuIly given in the footnotes. 

A. E. Crawley. 
DRUNKEN,NESS.» - 1. Definition. — Drunk- 
enness has never been satisfactorily defined in a 

1 Haddon, 267. 

' Washinsjton Matthews, in Amer. Anthrop. rii. 202-208. 

SMikhailovskii, 91, 9.1 f. 

« a. Mallery, iu 10 11 HEW (1893), n. 514, referring to Potanin. 

» II. M. Aynsley, in lA xy. (1886) 67. 

• Mikhailovskii, 96 (quoting Gmelin). 7 lb. IM. 

» Mikhailovskii, 68 (quoting Krasheninnikov and Erman), 
72, 76 f . 

> This art. deals almost exclusively with the ethical aspect of 
drunkenness. Full intomuttion as to its geographical distribu- 



logal or ethical sense. In any attempt to define it 
legally, ditficulties at once present themselves, and 
the judge has to reach his conclusions from the 
evidence. Drunkenness might in general, if not 
in scientific, terms be defined as that condition 
of mind and body produced by a sufficient quantity 
of alcohol (vaiying according to the susceptibility of 
the individual to the toxic agent) to bring about 
distinct changes in the intellect, the emotions, the 
will (volition), the motor mechanism, and the func- 
tions of tlie cerebellum, or small brain, indispens- 
able to the accurate execution of any movement. 
On the various stages and symptoms of intoxica- 
tion, and forms of alcoholism, see art. Alcohol 
(vol. i. p. 300). The definition of ' habitual drunk- 
ard ' first appeared in the Habitual Drunkards Act 
of 1879. It runs as follows : 

'a person who, not being amenable to any Jurisdiction in 
lunacy, is, notwithstanding, by reason of habitual intemperate 
drinking of intoxicating liquors, at times dangerous to hmiself 
or herself, or to others, or is incapable of managing himself or 
herself, and his or her affairs.' 

2. Racial degeneration : heredity. — Of as great 
moment as individual and family wreckage wrought 
by drunkenness is the degeneracy of the innocent 
oH'spring. About this degeneracy, until quite re- 
cently, there has never existed a doubt. The all 
but universal testimony of competent observers and 
of the medical profession all over the world, based 
upon extensive experiments, and the general im- 
pressions of the profession on the question remain 
to this hour unshaken. And it may be said at 
once that these impressions as to bodily, nervous, 
and mental degeneration are not to be lightly set 
aside by any conclusion or opinion based upon 
the very restricted investigation by one or two 
authorities, however eminent. In 1910 the Galton 
Eugenics Laboratory issued two papers by Pro- 
fessor Karl Pearson on the influence of parental 
alcoholism on the physical health and mentality of 
the offspring. These papers were supposed to set 
forth lax and subversive views on the subject of 
temperance — views which, if capable of proof and 
acceptance, would indisputably have given a de- 
cided set-back to the believed and accepted doc- 
trines of clinicians, and of scientific men and of 
social reformers in every land, as to the undoubted 
racial degeneration of the alcoholic individual and 
his or her offspring. If the first dictum of these 
observers, to the efl'ect that on the whole in regard 
to degeneration the balance turns as often in favour 
of the alcoholic as of the non-alcoholic parentage, 
could be upheld, the outlook for the nation could 
not be otherwise than ominous. These opinions, 
apart from their calamitous eS'ect on the race, 
shocked orthodox believers in the classical view 
hitherto held, and Sir Victor Horsley and others 
entered the lists in its support. If Professor Pear- 
son and his coUaborateurs could have established 
their proposition to anything like the extent to 
which their opponents nave established theirs, it 
would have to be seriously entertained, no matter 
what might be the consequences to society and the 
race. But they have not done so, and it is not 
much to the point for them to impugn the in- 
vestigations of their opponents on the giound that 
no trouble was taken to ascertain wliether tlie 
alcoholism or the parentage came first. Indeed, the 
same charge of laxity of metliods of investigation 
must be brought against Professor Pearson's own 
inquiry, for tlie 'Preliminary Study of Extreme 
Alcoholism in Adults ' is based on reports made in 
connexion with a very restricted investigation. In 
any study, wliether for or against, some fixed and 
definite standards are needed by which all cases 
can be tested. Such would have averted the con- 

tion, the intoxicants used by different races, etc., will be found 
in the art. Dkinrb, Drinkino. Cf. also the art. Aloouol. 



DRUNKENNESS 



06 



flicting meanings attached to the terms ' drinking' 
and ' sober ' applied to masses of tlie population. 
Many excessive drinkeis are never 'drunk,' and 
many have a reputation for sobriety who consume 
in one debauch as much as the man called a 
* drinker ' would in months without apparent in- 
jury to themselves and others. Hence the need for 
rigid definitions and limitations applied to investi- 
gations which, to be of value, would require to be 
of a comprehensive character, and extended over a 
series of years. The efiect of the ' Study,' however, 
is to demonstrate the close connexion between 
alcoholism and mental defectiveness, but the ques- 
tion is left unsolved whether this large proportion 
of mental and physical defectives, which is much 
greater than is found in the general population, is 
attributable to alcohol, or to the pre-existing 
mental defect. 

In the second paper, the theory of the first — that 
there is no close relation between mental defect in 
the children and alcoholism in the parents — ha.s 
been abandoned, and a close relationship is ad- 
mitted, while segregation is called for on the 
ground of its hereditary character. Nothing 
specific, it will be observed, is said with reference 
to the undoubted physical stigmata of such de- 
generates. 

Professor Pearson contends that mental defect is 
antecedent to alcoholism. But what, it may be 
asked, antecedes the mental defect? Unless this 
can be answered satisfactorily, one must come fuU 
circle to the original standpoint, and be confronted 
by the old problem. The Pearsonites have aban- 
doned the position that ' the balance turns as often 
in favour of the alcoholic as of the non-alcoholic 
parentage,' and practically admit that alcoholism 
and mental defectiveness are associated ; but 
whether the one precedes the other, and which 
precedes the other, they do not know. As far as 
the controversy has gone, there can be no doubt 
that the authorities who bel ieve that alcoholism, not 
grosR alcoholism — about that no doubt exists — but 
that fairly general kind of free indulgence which 
takes place daUy, with frequent ' week-end ' bouts, 
does lead to the physical and mental impairment of 
the offspring, are in the right, and can produce 
unquestioned evidence in support of their view. 
Than this no controversy of greater moment in re- 
gard to alcoholism has been started. To make the 
investigation referred to of the least value, a sta- 
tistical and clinical research into the comparative 
hysique and capacity of the descendants of alco- 
olic and non-alcoholic parents respectively in 
several carefully chosen districts would be required, 
and it is not too much to anticipate what the con- 
clusion would be. It would finally determine 
whether there is any marked correlation between 
parental alcoholism and inferiority of offspring 
manifesting itself not only in childhood but in 
adolescence ; and it would dLssipate views calcu- 
lated to do infinite harm to the race and to the 
commonwealth. 

The degeneracy of alcoholic ofTspring is attested 
by such authorities as Magnan, Morel, Lancereaux, 
Crichton-Browne, Legrand du SauUe, John Mac- 
pherson, etc., and it comes about in many ways. 
The male parent who is a ' soaker ' — we need not 
consider the physical state of the progenitor suffer- 
ing from the eli'ects of an occasional bout at the 
time of conception — undoubtedly begets a weak 
offspring, made surer if his habits worry and im- 
poverish the sober mother during pregnancy and 
lactation. When both parents are 'swillers,' the 
bad effects are still more marked. It has been 
alleged, although little evidence has been adduced 
in support of it, that when fathers are addicted to 
drunkenness the female oHspring are more likely 
to be the subjects of hereditary alcoholism, and 



I 



when the mother is the offender the males per- 
petuate the parental failing (h6r6diti croisie). It 
is thought, and there are strong grounds for the 
presumption, that the female progenitor is the 
surer and more general transmitter of the heredi- 
tary alcoholic taint and of the neuroses which 
eventuate in insanity, imbecility, and nervous 
diseases. The prepotency of the alcoholic mother, 
in handing on to her offspring a constitution not 
only physically defective but mentally unstable, 
cannot be gainsaid. This view accords with common 
sense, even if exact statistical records are wanting, 
for not only is her condition at conception of 
moment, but so also is the fact that during utero- 
gestation and lactation the blood is charged with 
the toxic agent, specially so during pregnancy. 
The heredity may be ' immediate ' from one or both 
parents, or ' mediate ' from grandparents, the ' im- 
mediates ' having been free from the taint. And 
the heredity may be homogeneous or heterogene- 
ous : in the one group inebriety begets neurotic 
children ; in the other the inebriety of members of 
a family springs from neurotic parentage, which 
may not, and frequently does not, owe its existence 
to alcoholic excess. 

Four of the foremost advocates of the non-trans- 
mission of personally acquired characters are 
Galton, Weissman, J. A. Thomson, and Archdall 
Keid — recognized authorities on the principles and 
laws of heredity. In their view environmental influ- 
ences play a secondary part ; heredity is everything. 
One may ask the question in this connexion. Are 
the bad mental effects of vicious habits and alco- 
holic excess passed on to descendants, thus setting 
up racial degeneration ? Dr. Kord Robertson, fol- 
lowing Darwin, Maudsley, and Hartwig, traverses 
Dr. A. Reid's proposition that ' inborn characters 
are known to be transmissible from parent to off- 
spring,' and postulates for himself the remarkable 
doctrine and dogma that ' ofi'spring, as far as can 
at present be determined, inherit no character 
whatever from their parents. . . . The distinction 
between inborn and acquired characters has really 
no justification in modern scientific fact. ..." Al- 
though there is no inheritance of parental char- 
acters, there is of environmental influences, to which 
all that is of any importance in human ontogenetic 
evolution {i.e. the development of tlie individual) is 
directly due. There is here evidence of acute dia- 
lectic diversity, as well as of uncertainty. 

3. Statistics. — The following statistics, which 
have a profound significance, are submitted in 
order to give some idea of (1) the annual mortality, 
sickness, and unemployment consequent upon ex- 
cessive indulgence ; and (2) the prevalence and cost 
of pauperism, pauper lunacy, criminality, and 
delinquency due to the same cause. 

(a) Mortality. — It was calculated twenty years 
ago (Dr. Norman Kerr) that 40,000 persons die 
annually in the United Kingdom from drunkenness 
and habitual drunkenness ; and Dr. Wakley, Editor 
of the Lancet and Coroner for Middlesex, not only 
confirmed this estimate, but put it higher. Of 
1500 inquests he attributed 900 at least to hard 
drinking, and he believed that from 10,000 to 
15,000 persons died annually in the Metropolis 
from drink, upon whom no inquest was held. For 
the United Kingdom this calculation would easily 
justify a total of 50,000. Deaths from suicide, 
drowning, and exposure totalled 7372 in one year 
in Great Britain and Ireland, and of these one may 
safely reckon that alcohol was responsible for 50 
l)er cent. Of deaths from accidents and negligence 
(13,386), 15 per cent may be attributed to the same 
cause. 

Infant mortality.— Fox the declining birth-rate 
in this and other lands, to which of late attention 
is constantly drawn, many causes are assigned, but 



96 



DRUNKENNESS 



in the present connexion we are concerned only 
with the great wa»tii<j;e occurring in the depleted 
birth-rates through overlaying by drunken parents, 
especially mothers, parental neglect arising from 
over-indulgence and improper feeding, no cogniz- 
ance being here taken of premature births attribut- 
able to drunkenness, and to accidents arising 
therefrom. In regard to the suckling of infants, 
the milk of tlie alcoholic mother is Iwth deficient 
in quantitj' and inferior in quality, in spite of the 
popular belief to the contrary in favour of stout 
and wines ; and, further, there is defective ovulation 
and sterility. 

Comparative mortaliiy for various trades and 
occupations, including the Licensed Trade itself. — 
Ac(!or(liug to Dr. Newsholme, if the comparative 
mortality figure for all men equals 1000, an equal 
number of gardeners would yield only 568 deaths, 
teachers 571, grocers 664, doctors 957 (midway), 
while at the other end of the scale are brewers 1407, 
innkeepers and men-servants 1665, and file-makers 
1682. Comparing employees in inns, etc., Avith all 
other occupied males, it is found that, out of a 
given number in each group, 8 times as many die 
From alcoholism, 5 times as many from gout, 1^ 
times as many from nervous diseases, 1| times as 
many from suicide, and 2J times as many from 
consumption. Regarding the liability of drunkards 
to consumption, Prof. Brouardel (Paris) observes : 
' Alcoholism is, in fact, the most powerful factor in 
the propagation of tuberculosis, and Dr. R. W. 
Philip (Edinburgh) agrees : ' The most vigorous 
man who becomes alcoholic is without resistance 
before it.' 

Actuarial calculations made with great care and 
exactitude by insurance offices are significant. The 
best oflices increase the premium as much as 50 per 
cent, and a few absolutely decline proposals of 
persons in the drink trade. And, as regards ab- 
stainers and non-abstainers, the chances of life are 
no less than 2 to 1 in favour of the former. The 
ratio is much the same in regard to sickness, re- 
covery being speedier among the former. The 
moral clearly is that he who desires to live long, 
wisely, and well should either be a total abstainer 
or exceedingly temperate. For many persons total 
abstinence is a necessity of their bein^ if they are 
not to make early sliipwreck of their lives. 

(6) Crimes and pettxj offences. — In the United 
Kingdom there were 636,340 apprehensions in the 
year 1903. These figures do not represent so many 
individuals as is often concluded, the same indi- 
vidual figuring more than once in returns. A total 
of 318,000 persons who have been in the hands of 
the police for homicide, assaults, petty thefts, pro- 
stitution, drunkenness, disorderly conduct, etc., 
would be nearer the mark. The total admits of a 
further reduction to 273,000 as the number in which 
alcohol plays a chief part ; but, as many persons 
commit petty offences without being officially 
listed, it would be safe to put the number requir- 
ing, although not receiving, the attention of^the 
police at 80,000— in all 353,000, or 1 to 128 of the 
population. In Scotland it is reckoned that there 
are 4700 recidivists, both of the criminal and of tlie 
petty offender classes, waging (especially the 
former) an aggressive war against society, of whom 
2500 are feeble-minded, debauched, parasitic, petty 
offenders, or 5 per 1000 of population— a ratio 
somewhat similar to that estimated by Mr. C. S. 
Loch, C.B., for England. 

The sex-ratio of these parasitic offenders is 
remarkable as the frequency of convictions ad- 
vances. Thus from 11 to 20 convictions, males are 
to females 100 : 70 ; 21 to 50 convictions, 100 : 90 ; 
61 to 100 convictions, 100 : 180 ; 101 and upwards, 
100:330. 

In Scotland, 2500 have been convicted and sent 



to prison 20 times, and 1330 more than 50 times. 
Referring to the 1330, Dr. John Macpherson, Com- 
missioner in Lunacy, makes the following trite 
observations as to the mental irresponsibility of 
such cases : 

* It is only the shortness of human life which limits the 
number.' Chronic drunkenness, habitual or perio<iic, he says, 
is ' a neurosis closely allied in ita symptomatology and heredity 
to the other neuroses and to insanity' ; and the true cause is 
' a defective heredity which (1) induces the subject to crave for 
a particular mental state — not for alcohol, but for the state 
which alcohol most conveniently produces ; (2) which provides 
the subject with a constitution which is particularly susceptible 
to the influence of such poisons as alcohol ; and (3) which is in 
many cases the cause of a mental unsoundness independent of 
alcohol.' 

{e) Cost of prisons. — In the year 1909 the cost of 
prisons was: in England, £720,340; Scotland, 
£95,790; Ireland, £114,660 — being a total of 
£930,790. It is safe to assume that, but for alcohol, 
not one-third of the whole cost, or £310,000, would 
be required for this purpose. The daily prison 
population amounts to 26,000, of whom 17,000 are 
interned for crimes and offences directly connected 
>vith casual and habitual drunkenness. 

(d) Pauperism. — The number of paupers in Eng- 
land, Scotland, and Ireland, and the cost to the 
country locally and imperially, may be roughly 
expressed as follows : paupers, 1,083,470 ; cost, 
£7,389,000. It is no exaggeration to say that 50 
per cent of pauperism and its cost may be ascribed 
to drunkenness and habitual drunkenness — in other 
words, 541,700 paupers and dependents are main- 
tained at a cost of £3,695,000. 

(e) Police. — Maintenance of the police force in 
England, Wales, Scotland, and Ireland, numbering 
62,400 picked men (England and Wales 46,000, 
Scotland 5670, Ireland 10,740), falls little short of 
£6,000,000 per annum. Of this enormous sum, 
drunkenness, and offences and crimes connected 
directly with drunkenness, may be credited at least 
with one-third, £2,000,000, met from local taxation 
and imperial subventions. But this is not all. From 
the Civil Service Estimates (Class iii., 'Law and 
Justice,' pp. 229-353), consideration must be given 
to another set of heavy imperial charges under this 
head, amounting in all to £1,600,000 for County 
Courts, Supreme Court of Judicature, Reforma- 
tories and Industrial Schools, Criminal Asylums, 
etc. If to this enormous imperial total under the 
head of ' Law and Justice ' be added the burdens 
falling upon local autliorities under the same head, 
the total would not fall short of £2,600,000, of 
which drunkenness and allied offences may be 
debited with 33 per cent, or £860,000. 

(/) Pauper lunatics. — In the year 1910 these 
were: England 130,550, Scotland 18,340, Ireland 
24,140— a total of 173,030. The annual (approxi- 
mate) cost of maintenance, inclusive of interest on 
buildings and land, was £6,000,000. Assuming 
that alcohol directly and indirectly is responsible 
for 20 per cent of the insane poor, it follows that 
£1,200,000 per annum from rates and Government 
grants are required to meet the burden of provid- 
ing for a daily population of 34,000 lunatics. 

{g) Excise and Customs Revenue for one year. — 
On the other side of the ledger must be placed the 
revenue raised by the duties on spirits, beer, wines, 
brandy, rum, etc., which may be put down at 
£35,000,000. When over against this revenue is 
put the cost and loss to the nation of £27,200,000 
(see Summary) in consequence of intemperance, 
the benefit of the enormous revenue sinks into in- 
significance. £170,000,000 is spent annually on 
drink by the nation. In the liglit of the facts and 
statistics submitted it is hardly possible to con- 
template a graver ethical problem than this one of 
drunkenness, affecting as it does so prejudicially 
the individual, the family, the community, and tha 
commonwealth. 



DRUNKENNESS 



97 



ScuHART or TUB roHKOiNa Statistics. 

Numbers. Cost and Loss. 

1. Annual Mortality ... J 50,000 £10,000,000 

2. Sickness and Unemployment . . . £3,000,000 

5. Law and Justice ... .. £860,000 

4. PoUce {®m',40o} £2,000,000 

6. Pauperism .... •M1,'"00 £7,389,000 

6. Pauper Lunacy . . . =34,000 £1,200,000 

7. Prisons 117,000 £620,790 

8. Cost of collecting Excise and 

Customs Duties ... .. £2,130,800 

£27,200.690 

t Value of each life £200. © Apprehensions, t Police Force. 
* Paupers. = Pauper Lunatics in daily population. II Daily 
population. 

4. Responsibility in drunkenness : anomalies of 
the Civil and Criminal Law.— There would be 
no responsibility if intoxication following one bout 
were recognized as temporary insanity, or, after 
many bouts, with resultant organic disease of the 
brain, nervous system, and the bodily viscera (liver, 
lungs, kidneys, etc. ), as something more than tem- 
porary insanity. The civil law is inclined to throw 
its shield over the drunkard ; the criminal law, 
while not now in practice considering drunkenness 
an aggravation, does not consider it an excuse, in 
spite of the fact that the sale of drink is unfettered ; 
it will step in to save the drunkard only when 
grave crimes are committed, and then (until quite 
recently) only to punish him with the view of re- 
forming him and deterring others^the latter a 
vain delusion, as people do not drink to commit 
crimes. Crime is an accident of the intoxicated 
state. A crime of violence is not in the drunkard's 
thoughts at the start, and, after inhibition has gone 
and intoxication is established, the idea of deter- 
rence for him is as absurd as the notion that he had 
any true conception of his conduct. In 1843 the 
Bench of Judges laid down the law for England in 
regard to all forms of insanity, to the effect that 
to establish a defence it must be proved that, at 
the time of committing the act, the accused was 
labouring under such a defect of reason of the mind 
as not to know the nature and quality of his act, 
or, in other words, as not to know that he was 
doing wrong. Accepting in relation to responsi- 
bility the test thus laid down, it must be apparent 
to the most ordinary observer that the intoxicated 
authors of crime (especially homicide, serious 
assaults, cruelty to children, etc.), and therefore of 
80 per cent of all crimes (minor and petty oliences 
due to drink are excluded in this connexion) imply- 
ing violence and recklessness, would not be held 
responsible, and would either be dealt with as 
persons insane at the time of committal, or in 
the public interest would be detained in prison for 
long periods because of the drunkenness which led 
to the injury. In either case society would be pro- 
tected against such potentially dangerous elements 
detected in its midst, and justice would be fully 
satisfied. But what of the drunkards in posse ? 
Do they take warning from those in esse ? Not at 
all. Later, in 1886, Justice Day said : ' Whatever 
the cause of the unconsciousness, a person not 
knowing the nature and quality of his act is irre- 
sponsible for it.' The existing law recognizes that, 
if the drunkenness has not been voluntarily in- 
duced, responsibility has not been incurred. But 
who is to decide when drunkenness is voluntary? 
A ruling which has been viewed with much satis- 
faction was that given by Lord Low at Glasgow in 
1891. He expressed his willingness to give the 
accused the benefit of the belief that there was no 
malice and no deliberation, but that he committed 
the crime while maddened by strong drink. While 
that was sufficient to take the ca.se out of the cate- 
gory of murder, it still left the charge of culpable 
homicide. There have been .several recent rulings 
of quite another kind in the United Kingdom ; and 
VOL. v. — 7 



the 'wilful' nature of the crime, as well as the 
'voluntarily' induced state of mind, has been 
much dwelt upon. The United States legal view 
is well put by an eminent New York jurist, Clark 
Bell, when he states that 

* the better rule of law undoubtedly now is that if the person 
at the time of the commission of the act was unconscious and 
incapable of reflection or memory by intoxication, he could not 
be convicted. There must be motive and intention.* 

Before leaving the ' wilful ' nature of the crime 
and the 'voluntarily' induced state of mind, it 
may with reason be asked. Do such cases admit of 
other interpretations? Might it not be argued, 
both on its own merits and in the light of more 
enlightened judicial rulings, (1) whether a man 
drunk can legally do a wilful act ; (2) whether at 
any stage of a habitual or periodic drunkard's 
bout the drinking was ' voluntary,' for that would 
imply the certainty of the absence of latent or 
patent physical antl mental degeneration j and (3) 
whether, admitting, as in the case of the occasional 
drunkard, that the imbibing of a moderate quan- 
tity was ' voluntary,' the moment inhibition is 
sufficiently impaired — sooner in some than in others, 
by reason of temperament and habit, by a partial 
paralysis of the higher nerve centres by the toxic 
agents — further drinking, leading up to the par- 
oxysmal and frenzied states revealed ad nauseam 
in our criminal courts, becomes 'involuntary.' And 
these seem cases where a plea of ' insane at the 
time ' would be a good and valid one, or the result- 
ant crime would be reduced from murder of the 
first degree. 

The anomalies which emerge when the civil and 
criminal laws are examined in regard to drunken- 
ness are remarkable. As the capacity to perform 
intelligently an important act is liable to be seri- 
ously impaired, the plea of intoxication is admissible 
to vitiate civil acts. Witnesses in civil as well as 
in criminal trials, when visibly under the influence 
of drink, have been asked by judges to stand down ; 
or, if they are permitted to give evidence, it is 
properly discounted. In Scotland an intoxicated 
prisoner's declaration is considered invalid. In 
England, the Lord Chancellor acting in Lunacy 
may, if an inquiry in lunacy has established that 
any one has been unable to manage his affairs 
through confirmed intoxication, take the person 
and property into his custody. Wills are voidable 
if made when the testator is drunk, whether the bout 
indulged in be by a casual or a habitual drunkard. 
Property sold or disposed of under such conditions 
may be followed by restitution when sobriety is 
attained. Contracts are now also voidable when 
the law discovers that the drunkenness was con- 
nived at by the other party for purposes of fraud. 
They become valid if ratified when sober. Intoxi- 
cation implies incapacity to consent, and a contract 
involves the mutual agreement of two minds, so 
that, if one party has no mind to agree, he cannot 
make a valid contract. It is not a question of twp 
sober persons dili'ering in bargaining astuteness. 
This will always be; but it is difl'erent when one of 
the two is drunk. In the United States it is held 
that, if the bargaining is fair and free from fraud 
and not over-reaching, it will stand, even although 
one of the parties was intoxicated. The Judicial 
Committee of the Privy Council, in a Canadian 
case, held that the present view taken of drunken- 
ness rendered habitual drunkenness a sufficient 
ground for setting aside paternal rights. In 
British law it has been ruled that, if either party 
to a marriage had been so far under the influence 
of drink as not to understand the nature and con- 
sequences of the act, proof of this would render 
the act invalid. It is presumed in such a case that 
there was no consummation. Thus, to all intents 
and purposes, the civil law shields the drunkard 
from the consequences of civil acts, testamentary 



98 



DRUNKENNESS 



dispositions, and contracts made in a state of in- 
toxication— ttius practically admitting the con- 
dition aa one of turn compos metUit for the time 

being. 

5. Legfislation affecting drunkenness.— (1) Great 
Britain.— Ill tireat Britain, the Legislature, stimu- 
late<l by Reports of Koyal and Departmental Com- 
missions on Licensing, Poor Law, the Feeble-minded, 
and Habitual Offenders and Inebriates, has in recent 
years done a good deal with the object of removing 
temptation in congested slum areas. For the casual 
drunkard, the laws provide slight penal treatment 
involving a few days in prison or a small fine, for 
the payment of which time may be allowed by the 
Stipendiary, Justice, or Magistrate before imprison- 
ment takes eifect ; or the offender may be liberated 
after imprisonment by part payment of the fine 
equivalent to the time still to be served in prison, 
the partial fine being provided by friends or by his 
own labour. For the reformation and protection 
of habitual drunkards, many of whom are feeble- 
minded, mentally unstable, and degenerate, the 
punishment meted out to 'casuals' is, in the vast 
majority of cases, applied to them, and only in a 
very few cases after conviction are the habituals 
sent to Certified or State Reformatories. The 
latter, maintained solely by the State, receive the 
worst, although not necessarily less reformable (the 
refractory and intractable), cases; the former, with 
its semi-penal atmosphere, the quieter and more 
hopeful cases, who for misconduct and insubordina- 
tion may be transferred to the latter. The inmates, 
on cause shown, may be transferred from one to the 
other by order of the Secretary of State. The 
State Reformatories are supported by Government 
grants, the Certified by local rates and Treasury 
subventions ; but, down to the time of writing, 
neither has been the success anticipated, or any- 
thing like it, owing to the working of the Acts. 
Stipendiaries and Magistrates have taken little 
advantage of the Act of 1898 as to Certified Re- 
formatories, and, when they have taken advan- 
tage of it, they have hitherto selected wholly 
unpromising material in many cases. As regards 
cases suitable for the State Reformatories, Sheriffs 
and County Court Judges have not availed them- 
selves of the power conferred upon them. There 
is also a reluctance, on rating grounds, on the part 
of local authorities, singly or in combination, to 
build Certified Reformatories, or to contribute to 
the support of those in existence. To the Legis- 
lature the public must look for -amendments of the 
Acts of 1879, 1888, and 1898, the serious defects of 
which experience has shown to exist. A change 
is clamantly urged, so that the law may become 
effective, and not, what it is, practically a dead 
letter. Further compulsion is also required in 
regard to well-to-do habitual and periodic drunk- 
ards (dipsomaniacs), under the Acts of 1879 and 
1888, who do not come under the notice of the 
police, in order that they may enter licensed Re- 
treats. The effect of compulsion would certainly 
be that many such habituals now fully qualified 
for segregation and treatment would enter these 
Ketreats voluntarily in terms of the law as it is at 
present, and would thus be saved from themselves, 
while their families and substance would be pro- 
tected against folly and prodigality of the worst 
kind, which a' century ago could be promptly met 
by interdiction. The Act of 1898 makes voluntary 
entrance easier, in so far as the signature of the 
applicant need only be attested by one Justice 
instead of two, as formerly. The inslitut of the 
family council, known to French, Canadian, and 
Jerse^ laws, would be, for Great Britain, a step in 
the right direction. 

(2) Avierica.—TXxe United States passed the first 
Inebriate Act in 1854, under which patients could 



enter a Retreat either voluntarily or by order of 
the Committee of the Habitual Drunlcard. In 
1867, King's County, N.Y., established a Home. 
Entrance was voluntiary or by order of the Trus- 
tees of the Home, who were empowere<l to visit 
the County jail and select fit subjects. Further, 
on the report of a Commission of Inquiry to the 
effect that any person was a habitual drunkard, 
and incapable of managing his or her affairs, a 
Justice could commit to the Home such person for 
one year. The Home received 12 per cent of 
licence monies. In 1892 a Home for alcoholic and 
drug females was set up in Manhattan Island. 
The victims of either habit were admitted volun- 
tarily or under compulsion. When compulsion was 
resorted to, two medical certificates were necessary 
and the order of a Judge, who could call for aih- 
davits or take proof. In 1867 the Washington 
Home, Chicago, was erected. This Home received, 
till expiry of original sentence, any person con- 
victed of drunkenness or any misdemeanour occa- 
sioned thereby. In the same year the Pennsylvania 
Sanitorium opened its doors. When there was no 
Committee of the Habitual Drunkard, the institu- 
tion could receive him on presentation, by his 
guardian or friend, of the certificates of two doc- 
tors attested by a judicial officer. In Connecticut, 
in 1874, the Court of Probate, on the application of 
a majority of the Select men of the town, could 
order an inquiry as to the allegation of habitual 
drunkenness arising from drink or drugs. This is 
the first reference to the need for investigating 
judicially the pernicious drug habit — unfortunately 
a growing one in every civilized country. If 
habitual drunkenness was proved, the patient was 
conveyed to an inebriate asylum for a period of 
from 4 to 12 months ; if dipsomania, for 3 years. 
The dipsomaniac was thus viewed in a worse light 
than the other. Superior courts had the right to 
interfere and discharge at any time. In New 
Jersey the application of a 'voluntary' requires 
to be attested by one Justice, or the applicant 
may present himself at the Home, and fill up a 
form, which is as binding as when attested by a 
Justice. A person drunk when received may, on 
becoming sober, sign a valid and binding applica- 
tion. The Massachusetts Home has accommoda- 
tion for 200 patients. If one is unable to pay for 
maintenance, the Municipality may be called upon 
to meet the cost. Fort Hamilton dome, Brooklyn, 
is the principal institution receiving pauper inebri- 
ates. Although there is, on the whole, fairly good 
legislation in the United States in the interests of 
inebriates who are either well or comfortably off 
in the matter of resources, there is, as in Great 
Britain, practically no provision made for the im- 
pecunious, except for those falling into the hands 
of the police, and for them the provision is miser- 
ably inadequate. 

(3) British Colonies. — (a) Canada. — Nearly all 
the Provincial Legislatures have enacted ell'ective 
measures for habitual inebriety. Ontario in 1873 
passed an Act to set up a Home for voluntary and 
involuntary inmates — the term of stay not to ex- 
ceed 12 months. A petition is presented to the 
Judge by relatives or, in default, by friends, to the 
effect that the patient cannot control himself or his 
afi'airs ; the Judge grants a hearing ; a copy of the 
petition is served on the habitual drunkard ; the 
J udge summons witnesses ; he can interrogate 
the drunkard, who has the right to call a.s well 
as to examine witnesses ; the Judge forwards his 
decision and a copy of the evidence to the Pro- 
vincial Secretary, who directs removal to a Home. 
In Quebec, in 1870, an Act was passed to provide 
for the interdiction and cure of habitual drunk- 
ards. Any .Judge of the Superior Court of Lower 
Canada can pronounce interdiction, and can appoint 



DRUNKENNESS 



99 



a curator to manage the drunkard's affairs, and 
control his person as in interdiction for insanity. 
A family council is called by the Judge to investi- 
gate the truth of allegations, and a petition is 
served on the alleged ' habitual,' who may be re- 
lieved of interdiction after one year's sobriety and 
regain civil rights. Wilful and knowing sale of 
drink to the interdicted is finable and punishable. 
The curator, sometimes termed the guardian, may 
place his charge or ward in any licensed Home, 
and may remove him at any time. The Quebec 
ftovince law of interdiction closely resembles what 
obtained in Scotland 100 years ago, but fell into 
desuetude, although there are competent authori- 
ties who say it comd, without statutory enactment, 
be revived again. In Manitoba the petition is pre- 
sented by a public officer. There is much to be 
said for the creation of such an official, as relatives 
are often placed in an invidious position, and will 
not move. Relatives and neighbours are sum- 
moned and put on oath. The interdicted may be 
confined in any place the Judge may think proper, 
and be visited once a month by a County Sherifi'. 
While interdiction lasts, bargains, sales, and eon- 
tracts made are null and void. The interdicted 
may be discharged and re-vested after proof of 12 
months' abstinence. 

(6) Australia. — In 1874 the Legislature of South 
Australia set up a Home at Adelaide, and voted 
£3000. Voluntary admission could be obtained for 
12 months on application of the ' habitual ' to any 
Justice. For mvoluntary admission, application 
was made by relatives or friends. The inebri- 
ate could be summoned before a Judge or special 
Magistrate or two Justices, and requested to show 
cause why he should not be committed to a Ketreat 
for 12 months. Whether present at, or absent 
from, the trial to which he has been invited, if it 
is proved that he is an inebriate, he can be sent to 
the Retreat. Two medical certificates are neces- 
sary. In Victoria, the legal machinery, like the 
provision made, is much the same, except that for 
voluntary entrants only one Justice is required. 
In New South Wales there are two kinds of 
Homes — one for those who can pay, the other a 
mixed penitentiary and inebriate asylum for quasi- 
criminal offenders. 

(c) New Zealand. — Admission is either voluntary 
or involuntary. Residence is in a ward or division 
of a lunatic a-sylum, quite apart from the insane. 
Great difficulties, as might be looked for, have 
been experienced in complying with this part of 
statutory requirement, and special accommodation 
has long been considered urgent. 

6. Prophylaxis and therapeutics. — One of the 
few hopeful features of the drink problem is the 
gradual diminution in the use of alcohol in society 
and in the treatment of disease in hospitals and in 
private practice, until now it is at the vanishing 
point as a drug, stimulant, or tissue-builder. In 
7 of the principal London Hospitals from 1872 to 
1902, altliough the daily resident population has 
varied little, the expenditure on alcohol has fallen 
6S per cent. No less striking and satisfactory are 
the figures for the Wandsworth Union, in which 
the number of inmates, inclusive of the sick, has 
increased 288 per cent, while the spirit bill has 
fallen from £371 to £2, 7s. Equally interesting 
are the figures for the Hospitals of the Metro- 
poliUn Asylum Board for 1894 to 1905. The total 
under treatment for 'fevers' rose from 19,900 to 
27,160, or 36 per cent, while the cost of stimulants 
fell 6S per cent, from £1388 to £515. The same 
tale could be told of every hospital in the land ; 
and it is especially significant, since the fall is the 
ontcome of^ the iJest clinical experience and scien- 
tific research. In surgical wards of hospitals and 
in maternities, patients operated upon rarely get 



alcohol, except for 'shock' and severe heemorrhage, 
es^&oiMy post-partum (Dr. W. L. Reid, Glasgow), 
and in these directions alcohol is being superseded 
by other and better substitutes. 

During a drinking bout numerous untoward or 
fatal accidents may occur, viz. gastritis (inflam- 
mation of stomach, which is perhaps the least to 
be feared, as the poison may be rejected), retention 
of urine, sufibcation resulting from the position of 
the body (head resting on the chest), coma (when 
death takes place from deep toxic narcosis), ex- 
posure, drowning, or bodily injuries. Apoplexy is 
frequently mistaken for drunken coma, the person 
with the apoplectic seizure, it may be, smelling of 
alcohol. 

In regard to treatment, something requires to 
be said of what one might term orthodox medical 
treatment, and of the many puffed ' secret cures,' 
freely advertised, regardless of expense, of which 
only the rich can avail themselves. Before admit- 
tance into any of the Homes in which the 'secret' 
cure is practised, a bargain is struck, and a big 
sum of money is paid down. Benevolence or 
philanthropy does not enter into the matter. The 
nature of the remedy, so far as the vendor is 
concerned, is kept ' secret.' But there is no secret 
about it, as nearly all such remedies have been 
analyzed by competent chemists, and their contents 
are known. As a rule, the composition of the best 
of them in no way ditl'ers from the composition of 
those prescribed by physicians who act for the good 
of the drunkard, and have no interest in the profits 
from the sale of the remedies. 

Strychnine, atropine, nux-vomica, hyoscine, bro- 
mides, quinine, digitalis, capsicum, and apomorphia 
for sleeplessness, in very minute doses, are the chief 
ingredients of tlie physician's prescription, as they 
are of many of tlie 'secret' remedies ; and they are 
said to create a distaste for alcohol by restoring 
and bracing up the tissues to a healthy state. If 
by any of the remedies that are really 'quack' a 
cure is said to have been eft'ected, the ' cure ' is by 
'suggestion,' which sometimes is of good effect 
when aided by long abstinence, by the tonics al- 
luded to, and by healthy regimen, employment, 
and recreation. 

LiTSEATURE. — AUbutt-Rolleston, System of Medicine, 
London, 1910; A. Baer, Der Alcoholismus, Berlin, 1878, Ueber 
Trunkgucht, Berlin, 1S80; Thomas Barlow, in Brit. Med. 
Journ, 1905 ; James Barr, ' Alcohol as a Therapeutic Agent,' 
ib. ; Charles Booth, Pauperism aiidthe -Endmvmentof Old Age, 
London, 1892 ; T. Lauder Brunton, The Action of Medicinet, 
London, 1897 ; John Burns, Labour and Drink, London, 1904 ; 
T. S. Clouston, Unsoundness oj Mind, London, 1911 : T. D. 
Crothers, Diseases of Inebriety, New York, 1893; W. T, 
Gairdner, Morison Lectures^ Edin. 1890 ; A. Hill, Primer oj 
Physiology, London, 1902 ; Victor Horsley and M. D. Sturgfe, 
Alcohol and the Human Body, London, 1907 ; R. Jones, Evidence 
before Dep. Coin, on Physical Deterioration, Ix)ndon, 1904 ; 
T. N. Ketynack, The Alcohol Problem in its Biological Aspect, 
London, 19(X1 ; N. Kerr, Inebriety, its Etiology, etc.3, London, 

1894 ; M. Legrain, Diginireseence sociate et ulcoolisme, Paris, 

1895 ; W. Bevan Lewis, Textbook of Mental Diseases^ London, 
1899 ; J. Macpherson, Morison Lectures, Edin. 1905 ; ,T. A. 
M'NichoU, 'A Study of the Effect of Alcohol on School 
Children,' in Med. Temp. Rev., 1905 ; V. Magnan, Alcoolisme, 
Paris, 1874, and Recherches sur les centres nerveux, Paris, 187C 
and 1893 ; H. Maudsley, Heredity, Variation and Genius, 
London, 1908 ; F. W. Mott, Alcohol and Insanity, 1906, and 
' Heredity and Disease,' in Brit. Med. Journ. 1905 ; A. News- 
holme, Elements of Vital Statistics 3, Ix)ndon, 1899 ; C, F. 
Palmer, Inebriety, London, 1896 ; Archdali Reid, Principles 
of Heredity, London, h)06, and Alcoholism ; Study in Heredity, 
do. 1901 ; Rowntree-Sherwell, Temperance Problem^, do. 1901, 
App. p. 465 ; G. H. Sava?e, Increase of Insanity, London, 
1907 ; E. A. Schafer, Textbook of Physiology, Edin. 1898-1900 ; 
P. Smith, Address to British Med. Assoc. , 1900 ; E. H. Starling, 
Elements of Human Physiology 4, London, 1900 ; J. Steeg, Les 
Dangers de I'alcoolisme ^, Paris, 1901 ; J. F. Sutherland, artt. 
' Recidivism,' in Journ. of Ment. Science, 1908-9, * Jurisprudence 
of Intoxication,' in Edinburgh Juridical Rev., 1898, 'The 
Insanities of Inebriety ' (lejfislative and medico-legal stand- 
points), read to Brit. Med. Assoc., 1898, Urgency of Legislation 
for Well-to-do Inebriates, 1899, and ' Crime from the Economic, 
Sociological, Statistical, and Psychological Standpoint^,' Tians. 
Brit. Assoc., 1892; A. Taillefer, L' Alcoolisme et ses dangers, 
Paris, 19M; J. E. Usher, Alcoholitm and Ut Treatment, 



100 



DUALISM (Introductory) 



LsodoD, 1881; G. S. Woodhead, Reetnt Reaarchri inAetion 
^ AlaOMi in Health and SicJnuM, London, iao4 ; see also 
Besiatrar-Oeneral'i Returns; Judicial Statistics; Rei>orts o( 
Inebriate Iletrcats and Kclormatories, o( I'risons, ot Local 
Oovemnienl Boards (Pauperism), of Lunacy Commissions; 
Baoorl o( Sel. Com. on Habitual Drunkards, 1872 ; Report of 
Biw. Dep. Com. on Treatment of Inebriates, 1893 ; Report of 
Seot. Dep. Com. on Habitual offenders, Inebriates, etc., 189.'^ ; 
Report of Dep. Com. (KngJ on Inebriates and their Detention 
In Betormatories, 1008; Report of Dep. Com. (Scot.) 1900; 



Report of Roy. Com. on Licensing, 1S99 ; Report of Brit. Med. 
Assoc. Whisky Com. 1903 ; Report of Roy. Com. on Care and 
Control of Feeble-minded, 1908 ; Report of Com. on Physical 
Deterioration, 1904. J. ff. SUTHERLAND. 

DRUSES.— See Sects (Christian). 
DRYADS.— See Hamadryads. 



DUALISM. 



Introductoij (K. Eucken), p. 100. 
American (L. Spence), p. 101. 
Celtic (J. A. MacCullooh), p. 102. 
Egyptian (G. Foucart), p. 104. 

DUALISM. — The term 'dualism' appears for 
the first time in Thomas Hyde's Hist, religionia 
veterum Persarum {e.g. cap. 9, p. 164), published 
in 1700, and is tliere applied to a system of tliought 
according to which there exists an Evil Being co- 
ordinate and co-eternal with the primal Good. The 
word was employed in the same sense by Bayle (cf. 
art. 'Zoroastre,' in his Diet., ed. Paris, 1820) and 
Leibniz (in his Thiodicie ; cf. Erdmann's ed., Ber- 
lin, 1839-40, pp. 5476, 565a). It was then trans- 
ferred from tlie sphere of ethics and religion to 
that of metaphysics by Christian Wolft(1679-1754). 
Wolff applies the term 'dualists' to those who 
regard bodyand soul as mutually independent 
guDstances,' and~c6ntrasts such thinkers with the 
mbhists, who would derive the totality of the real 
either from matter alone or from spirit alone. The 
Wolffian usage of the term is now by far the most 
generally recognized, although we stUl sometimes 
find the word applied to certain theories in ethics, 
epistemology, and the philosophy of religion. 

In its application to the relation between soul 
and body, spirit and Nature, the term 'dualism' 
recalls a problem which goes back to a very early 
period, and which has received various solutions 
in the evolution of human thought. Among the 
ancient Greeks the tendency was to bring the 
physical and the psychical into very close relations 
with each other. Thus their philosophy begins 
with a naive monism — hylozoism ; and, in parti- 
cular, their artistic achievement reveals a marvel- 
lous harmony of the spiritual and the sensuous. 
But dualistic tendencies likewise began to mani- 
fest themselves at an early stage, as, e.g., in the 
teaching of the Orpines and Pythagoreans regard- 
ing the transmigration of souls — a doctrine which 
implies that the soul is independent of the body. 
In philosophy, however, it was Anaxagoras (j.«).) 
who first explicitly disengaged spirit or mind (koDs) 
from matter, setting the former, as the simple, 
the pure, the unmixed, in opposition to the latter;* 
and we may, therefore, speak of Anaxagoras as the 
first philosophical dualist. But the dualistic mode 
of thought finds its most magnificent expression in 
the philo.sophy of Plato, with its rigid separation 
of the world of Ideas from the manifold of sense. 
Aristotle, on the other hand, inclines rather towards 
monism, as appears from his definition of the soul 
as the entelechy of the body.* But his conception 
of the spirit (vovt) as something added to the process 

^ Ptychologia Rationalia, Frankfort, 1732, § 89: 'Dualistae 
sunt, qui et 8uL»itantiarum materialium et immaterialium exis- 
tentiam admittunt.' 
_ » Cf. e.g. Aristotle^ Metaph. i. 8 (Bekker, p. 9896, 14) : *rj<ri 

t' flfo* fi^utyiitya vavra irXrjy toO vou, tovto*- Si a^^V^ fiofov KaX 
Katafi6v ; Phyt. Viii. 5 (2566, 24) : iib nu 'Afa(ny6pa( iitSCK l^tytl, 
Tbr yovv iiro^, ^tatrKuv ital afiiyrj <7k<u, ivtiSrintp Kii^o-euc apx^M 
airrhv wotti tWtu' owt« yap av n6y<av kh'oit) aKiv-rfro^ Siv Koi 
•pa-roiri iiiiyrit ay; dt Anima, i. 2 (405a, 13): '\yatay6pat J' 
iotn fiiv irtpov kiy*tv ^vx^v r« itai vovv^ XP^ot S' anijioiv wf /u^ 
♦wr«i, wXiii' a(ixriy ye rhy yovv TtBtrai jLuL\t<rra iravruy ^6yoy yovy 
^wrii' ovTof Tuy oyrtay airKovy ^lyat ko* a^ty^ t« koX Kodapov. 

» Be Anima, li. 1 (4126, 4) : ei i.j n myby ini iriioTn^vv^ S« 
Myfw, fill ay JKr«A<'x«ia ri irpwnf avtf^arof ^v<riKOv opyayiKov. 



Greek (W. L. Davidson), p. 107. 
Iranian (L. C. Casaktelli), p. Ul. 
Jewish (A. E. Suffrin), p. 112. 

of Nature from without, and separable from the 
body, bears an unmistakably dnalistic character.' 
It is certainly true that in the later period of the 
ancient world the Stoics advocated a monistic 
hypothesis, bringing force and matter (Spao-TociK 
Kal v\ik6i>) into close connexion with each other, 
and affiniiing the material nature of all reality ; 
but when, in the further evolution of ancient social 
life, the old ideals began to lose their fervour, and 
the dark and painful aspects of experience more 
and more engaged the minds of men, and when, 
above all, dire moral perplexities began to be felt, 
matter gradually came to be regarded as something 
obstructive and evil — something from which the 
individual must tiy his best to deliver himself. 
Thus arose the ascetic ideal of life, and, hand in 
hand with it, a rigid dualism. Accordingly we 
find that the last great system of ancient thought, 
that of Plotinus, is pervaded by a vehement dis- 
paragement of sensuous matter, while the intel- 
ligible world and the world of sense are set in 
rigorous opposition to each other. See, further, 
the ' Greek section of this article. 

Christianity, in its essential principles, has no 
affinity ^vith a dualism of this kind. Looking 
upon all that exists as the handiwork of God, it 
cannot regard matter as something unworthy. Its 
firm contention is that the source of evil lies, not 
in matter, but in voluntary action, in the apostasy 
of spiritual beings from God. Another element 
which militates against the dualistic tendency is 
the fact that in Christianity the body ranks as an 
essential constituent of human nature, as is shown, 
in particular, by the doctrine of a bodily resur- 
rection. Notwithstanding these facts, however, 
Greek and Oriental dualism forced their way into 
the early Church on a wide scale, and, as appears 
from the prevalence of asceticism (see Asceticism 
[Christian]), gained a vast influence over the Chris- 
tian mind. As we might expect, its grasp was 
still further strengthened by the Platonism which 
prevailed in the first half of the mediajval period. 
On the other hand, the ascendancy of the Aristo- 
telian philosophy in the culminating stages of 
mediseval thought was, in the domain of natural 
science, rather favourable to monism, since it did 
not permit of any hard and fast antagonism be- 
tween body and soul. But the Aristotelian view 
at length underwent a certain mo<lification, in so 
far as the champions of meiliaival Aristotelianism, 
Albertus Magnus and Thomas Aquinas, held that 
the vegetative and animal faculties of the soul, 
which Aristotle himself assigned wholly to the 
body, are conditioned by the bodily organs only 
in their temporal functions, and therefore also 
share in the immortality of the spirit. This view 
was officially recognized as the doctrine of the 

1 Cf. da A ninial. Gen. ii. 3 (7366, 27) : ActireToi 6i rby vovy p.ivov 
0vpa$iy iirtLtrirvat (tai ffcior etvai fiovoy oifSiv yap avTOv rji evep- 
yeta froti'b>r«( crw>iar(in) iytpytia ; de Anima, ii. 2 (4136, 25) : eoiKC 
(ecu. o vovf) >^vxi)S yryov trtpov el»'ai, Kol n>vT9 ii6voy ci^'xeroi 
XwptV«rtfai KoBaxtp to alBiov rot) ^^oprov. 



DUALISM (American) 



101 



Catholic Church by the Council of Vienne (a.d. 
1311). 

Modem philosophy, as inaugurated by Descartes 
iq.v.), opened with an unqualilied dualism. The 
conceptions of matter and mind were now for the 
first time prec'sely delined, and clearly distin- 
guished from each other. Descartes' definition of 
body and soul respectively as substantia exlensa 
and substantia cogitans obviously made it impos- 
sible to bring the two under a single concept, since 
the ' thinking substance' is stated to be absolutely 
indivisible, while the spatially extended substance 
is capable of in Unite division. Body and soul 
have thus no internal principle of unity, but are 
simply joined together by the will of God. A dis- 
tinction so absolute could not, of course, remain 
permanently unchallenged, but it sufficed at least 
to put an end to the hitherto prevailing confusion 
between the physical and the psychological inter- 
pretation of phenomena, and made it henceforth 
necessary to explain Nature by Nature, and the 
psychical by the psychical. The natural sciences, 
in particular, had sutt'ered serious detriment from 
a theory which explained physical and physio- 
logical processes— -more especially the formation, 
growth, and nutriment of organic bodies — as im- 
mediately due to the workings of the soul ; for, of 
course, the practice of tracing natural phenomena 
to psychical causes stood in the way of all advance 
in exact science, and it was the dualism of Des- 
cartes, witli its precise delimitation of concepts, 
that first brought such advance within the range 
of possibility. 

'This dualism maintained its ground as the domi- 
nant hypothesis of the period of Illumination, and 
Wolfl' himself claimed unequivocally to be a dualist. 
But Descartes' accentuation of the antithesis be- 
tween mind and matter evoked an endeavour to 
bridge the gulf in some way, and to find some 
explanation of the connexion that actoally obtains. 
Descartes himself manifests tliis striving in his 
doctrine that the physical and the psychical have 
their point of contact in the pineal gland ; and fur- 
ther instances are found in occasionalism, with 
it-' belief that material and spiritual processes are 
muiiitai!p 1 ill !nutual harmony by Divine agency ; 
in til'. - -tern of Spinoza, who regarded the two 
great liu.ftions of phenomena as ilie attributes of 
k sinKle substance; and in I.«ibniz'H doctrine of 
monaBe, which derives all reality from spirit, and 
explains the body as simply a cont;nries of soiils. 

A defection from the prcvailinj; i«lief in dualism, 
however, ensued only with the brt.ak-up of the 
Illnmination and the emergence ot new currents 
of thought. Various factors combined to make a 
stand against it. First of all, tiic movement to- 
arards Ml Rrt.ia^^F intorprcfjiiif.n ,,t life and a more 
natural eonception g|{ caajitari- *— -^^.^^i alike in 
tFe hj^aattamih wpw^ by Goethe and in 

i.betW ''' it, the sensuous 

IBOn-sen - the speculative 

philosophy of (Tei"nja;iy, uisi. its interpretation of 
all reality ia but. the evolution of spiritual life.' 
But the most pofenf factor of all was modem 
science, which (lemonstrated in countless ways tlie 
dependence of psychical life upon the body and 
bodily conditions, alike in the experience of the 
individual and throughout tlie entire range of or- 
ganic being. Tliis forms the starting-point of the 
theory which with special emphasis now claims 
the name of monism, and rejects everything in the 
nature of a self-sustained psycliical "life. Never- 
theless, as has been well said by so eminent a con- 

•Of., e.g., Flchte, Werke, Iv. 373: 'One who in any wUe 
admits tlie existence of a material world, thougii only along 
with and beside the spiritual — dualism as they call it — ia no 
philosopher.' 



temporary thinker as Wundt, this monism is in 
essence simply a reversion to the hylozoism of the 
Ionic philosophers : and it is certainly open to doubt 
whether the question is quite as simple as monists 
make out, and whether the entire intellectual 
movement of centuries has, in so fundamental a 
problem, been barren of all result, as monists must 
perforce maintain. This point will be further dealt 
with, however, in the article MoNISM ; and it need 
only be said meanwhile that it is one thing to think 
of the world as in the last resort sundered into 
absolutely diverse provinces, and quite another tit- 
regard human experience as embracing different 
starting-points and different movements, which can 
be brought into closer relations only by degrees 
and in virtue of progressive intellectual effort. It 
is impossible that dualism should constitute the 
final phase of human thought; but, in view of such 
consummation, it has an important function to per- 
form, viz. to put obstacles in the way of a premature 
synthesis, and to insist upon a full recognition of 
the antitheses actually present in human experi- 
ence. Dualism, in virtue of its precise definition 
of concepts, acts as a corrective to that confusion 
into which monism so easily lapses; and, to realize 
the- value of such a rOle, we need but recall the 
aphorism of Bacon : ' Veritas potius emergit ex 
errore quam ex confusione.' 

LiTERATUEE.— R. Eisler, Worterbuch der phitos. Begriffe^, 
Berlin, 19(19, s.v. ' Dualismus ' ; L. Stein, Dualismus oder 
Monismus 'I Eine Untertuchung iiber die doppelte Wahrheit, 
Berlin, 1909 ; R. Eucken, Geislige StrOtnungen der Gegenwart *, 
Leipzig, 1909, p. 170 B. (an English translation will appear 
shorUy). K. EXJCKEN. 

DUALISM (American). — The view which has 
obtained in several quarters, that an ethical dualism 
exists in the religions of many of the American 
Indian tribes, is a wholly mistaken one. No ethical 
contrast existed in the native mind between those 
deities who assisted man and those who were 
actively hostile to him ; and it has been made 
abundantly clear that such dualistic ideas as have 
been found connected with other religious concep- 
tions of American Indian peoples owe their origin 
to contact with the whites. The view that dualism 
did exist arose from the misconceptions of early 
missionaries, assisted in many instances by the 
mistranslation of native words. 

'The idea that the Creelcs know anything ot a devil is an 
invention of the missionaries ' (Gatscbet, op. cit. infra, i. 216)l 
* The HidaLsa believe neither in a hell nor a devil ' (Matthews, 
op. cit. ir\fra, p. xxii). 

In some cases the same word which the mission- 
aries have employed to translate ' devil ' they have 
been compelled to use to render ' spirit. The 
early missionaries regarded the gods of the Indiana 
as devils, and taught their converts to look upon 
them as such, but in some cases the natives dis- 
agreed with their teachers, attempting to explain 
to them that their deities were tlie bringers of all 
good things, and by no means evil. This, of course, 
implied not that their gods were 'good' in the 
ethical sense, that they loved rigliteousness and 
hated iniquity, but that they conferred on man 
the merely material blessings necessary to savage 
existence. Winslow, in his Good News from Nev> 
England (1622), says that the Indians worship a 
good power called Kiehtan, and another ' who, as 
farre as wee can conceive, is the Devill,' named 
Hobbamock, or Hobbamoqui. The former of 
those names is merely the word 'great' in the 
Algonquin language, and is probably an abbrevia- 
tion of Kittanitomt, the ' Great Mauitou ' — a vague 
term mentioned by Williams and other early 
writers, and in all probability manufactured by 
them (see Duponceau, Lnngues de I'Amirique du 
Nord). On the other hand, the god whom Winslow 
likens to the power of evil was, in fact, a deity 
whose special function was the cure of diseases; 



lOS 



DUALISM (Celtic) 



he was also a protoctor in dreaniB, aud is explained 
by Jarvis as ' the Oke, or tutelary deity, which 
each Indian worships.' 

In the religions conceptions of some tribes the 
same god is both 'good and 'evil,' in the sense 
that he distributes equally joy and sorrow. Thus 
Juruimri, worshipped by the Uapes of Brazil, is 
the name for the supernatural in general, from 
which all things come, good and evil. In the 
majority of Anserican religions, however, the 
supreme deity is ' good ' in a purely material sense. 
Thus Aka-Kanet, sometimes mentioned as the 
father of evil in the mythology of the Araucans of 
Chile, is, in reality, a benign power throned in the 
Pleiades, who sends fruits and flowers to the earth. 
In the same way the Supay of the Peruvians and 
the Mictia of the Nahuatlacans were not embodi- 
ments of the evil principle, but simply gods of the 
dead, corresponding to the classical Pluto. The 
Jesuit missionaries rarely distinguish between good 
and evil deities, when speaking of the religions of 
the northern tribes ; and the Moravian Brethren, 
writing of the Algonquins and Iroquois, state that 
'the idea of a devU, a prince of darkness, they 
first received in later times through the Europeans.' 

* I have never been able to discover from the Dakotas them- 
selves,' writes the Rev. G, H. Pond, a missionary to them for 
eighteen years, * the least degree of evidence that they divide 
the gods into classes of good and evil, and am persuaded that 
those persons who represent them as doing so do it incon- 
siderately, and because it is so natural to siibscribe to a long- 
oherished popular opinion' {ap. Schoolcraft, Indian Tribes, 
p. 642). • 

Myths have arisen in several Indian mythologies 
since the tribes in whose religions they occur have 
come into contact with Europeans. In these 
myths the concepts of good and evil, as known to 
civilized nations, are introduced ; and several 
myths have been altered to bring the older 
conceptions into line with the newly-introduced 
idea of dualism. The comparatively late introduc- 
tion of such views finds remarkable confirmation 
in the myths of the Kiche (Quich6) of Guatemala, 
which are recorded in the Popol Vuh, a compilation 
of native myths made by a Christianized Kiche 
scribe of the 17th century. Dimly conscious, 
perhaps, that his version of these myths was 
coloured by the opinions of a lately-adopted 
Christianity, he says of the Lords of Xibalba, the 
rulers of the Kiche Hades : ' In the old times they 
did not have much power. They were but annoyers 
and opposers of men, and, in truth, they were 
not regarded as gods.' Speaking of the Mayas, 
Cogolludo says : ' The devil is called by them 
Xibilba,' the derivation of which name is from a 
root meaning ' to fear ' ; it relates to the fear 
inseparable from the idea of death, and has no 
connexion in any way with the idea of evil in the 
abstract. The gods of the American Indians, like 
those of other savages, are too anthropomorphic in 
their nature, too entirely savage themselves, to 
partake of higher ethical qualities. Personal spite 
or tribal feuds may render some more inimical than 
others, but always purely fiom self-interest, and 
not through a love of evil for evil's sake. Some, 
again, favour man, but always from similar motives, 
and not from any purely ethical sense of virtue, 
r LrrKRAiORS.— D. G. Brinton, JUvtlit of the. New World (Srd 
ed. revised), Philadelphia, 1905; A. S. Gatschet, Migration 
Legend o/ the Creek Indiant, Philadelphia, 1884; P. S. 
DupoDcean, L^.ngves de I'Amirique du A'ord, Paris, 1838; 
Jarvis, 'Discourse on the Religion of the Ind. Tribes of N. 
America' (in the Trant. o/ iV.V. Hist. Soe., 1819); G. H. 
Loskiel, (Je»eh. der Mitt, der emng. Brilder, Barby, 1789 ; 
Schoolcraft, Indian Tribet, Philadelphia, 1861-69; U. Spence, 
Popot Vuh, London, 1908 ; W. Matthews, Oranunar of the 
BOaUa, New York, 1873. LEWIS SPKNCE. 

DUALISM (Celtic). — Little or nothing is known 
to us of the religion of the ancient Celts as an 
ethical religion. The references to it in classical 
writers, the evidence of inscriptions, the Welsh 



and Irish texts, and the witness of folk-survivals 
reveal it almost wholly as a Nature-religion. To 
some extent the dualism which is more or less 
present in all Nature-religions characterized Celtic 
mythology, but how far it was also an ethical 
dualism is quite obscure. As the religion of a 
people who were largely engaged in agriculture, 
there was a cult of divinities and spirits of growth 
and fertility whose power and influence might be 
aided by magical ritual. Opposed to growth and 
fertility were blight, disease, and death, the evi- 
dence of which was seen in pestilence, in bad 
seasons, and in the desolation of winter. As 

frowth and fertility were the work of beneflcent 
cities, so those evils were probably regarded as 
brought about by personal agencies of a super- 
natural and evil character. The drama of Nature 
showed that the sun was sometimes van(}uished by 
cloud and storm, though it soon renewed its vigour; 
that summer with all its exuberant life died at the 
coming of winter, but that it returned again full of 
vitality ; that vegetation perished, but tliat it re- 
vived annually in ample plenitude. But what was 
true of Nature was true also, in mythology, of the 
personal and supernatural forces beliind it. Benefl- 
cent and evil powers were in conflict. Year by 
year the struggle went on, year by year the gocfs 
of growth suftered deadly harm, but appeared 
again as triumphant conquerors to renew the 
struggle once more. Myth came to speak of this 
perennial conflict as having happened once for all, 
as if some gods had perished in spite of their im- 
mortality. But the struggle, nevertheless, went 
on year by year. The go& might perish, but only 
for a time. They were immortal ; they only 
seemed to be wounded and to die. 

Such a dualistic mythology as this seems to be 
represented by the euhemerized account of the 
battles between Fomorians and Tuatha D6 Danann 
in the Irish texts. Whatever the Fomorians were 
in origin, whether the gods of aboriginal tribes in 
Ireland, or of a group of Celtic tribes at war with 
another group, it is evident that they had come to 
be regarded as evil and malicious, and could thus 
be equated with the baneful personages already 
known to Celtic mythology as hostile to the gods 
of growth and fertility. It is evident tliat the 
Irish Celts possessed a somewhat elaborate mythi- 
cal rendering of the dualism of Nature, and this 
seems to survive in the account of the battle or 
battles of Magtured. But, after the Christianizing 
of Ireland, the old gods had gradually come to be re- 
garded as kings and warriors, and this euhemerizing 
process was completed by the annalists. Hence in 
the account of the battles, while it is evident that 
in some aspects the hostile forces are more than 
human, the gods are described as kings and great 
warriors or as craftsmen. The Fomorians appear 
as the baneful race, more or less demoniac, in- 
habiting Ireland before the arrival of the Tuatha 
D6 Danann. But we also hear of the Firbolgs and 
other peoples, who are clearly the aboriginal races 
of Irelanc^ and whose gods the Fomorians are some- 
times said to be. The Tuatha D6 Danann are 
certainly the gods of the Irish Celts or of some 
large group of them. 

Early Irish literature knew only one batUe of Magtured, in 
which Firbolgs and Fomorians were overthrown together. But 
in later accounts the battle is duplicated, and the first fight 
takes place at Magtured iu Mayo, and the second at Magtured 
in Sligo, twenty-seven years after the first. In the firsL battle 
the leader of the Tuatha Vi Danann, Nuada, loses his hand, and 
for this reason the kingdom is temporarily taken from him 
and given to Bres, the son of a Fomorian by a woman of the 
Tuatha D6 Danann. There is the usual Inconsistency of myth 
here and elsewhere in these notices. The Tuatha D6 Danann 
have just landed in Ireland, but already some of them have 
united with the Fomorians in marriage. This inconsistency 
escaped the euhemoriiing chroniclers, but it clearly points to 
the fact that Fou\orians and Tuatlia DiS Danann were super- 
natural and Divine, uot human races successively arriving In 



iDtJALlSM (Celtic) 



103 



Ireland, and, though in conflict, yet, like conflicting barbarous 
tribes, ocoaaioually uniting in marri^je. The second battle took 
place DO Samhaiu (Nov. let), the festival which began the Celtic 
winter (see Fkstivals [Celtic]). Meanwhile the Tuatha D6 
Danann had been forced to pay tribute to the Fomorians and 
to perform menial duties for them, in spite of their having been 
conquerors. This shows that the euhemerists probably mis- 
understood the old luyths, which may have been known to them 
only in a garbled form. Myths must have told of the temporary 
defeat and subjection of the beneficent Nature-gods, followed 
by their final triumph, not of a subjection after a victory. 
Following the anualistic account, we find that the exactions 
demanded by Bres led to discontent. For his niggardliness he 
was satirized by a poet, and 'nought but decay was on him 
from that hour.' Meanwhile Nuada had recovered his hand, 
and Bres was forced to abandon the throne. In grief and anger 
he went to collect an army from his father, who sent him to 
Balor and to Indech. These assembled their forces and pre- 
y ^red to attack the Tuatha D^ Danann. In the course of the 
battl'* which followed, Indech wounded Ogma (probably a 
culture- jod), and Balor (a personification of the evil eye) slew 
Nuada, but himself received a mortal wound from Lug (perhaps 
a 8un-god). This put an end to the battle ; the Fomorians were 
routed, and fled to their own part of the country. 

Another inconsistency ia tne euhemerized account is that, 
while the first battle is fought on Beltane, the beginning of 
summer, the second is fought on Samhain. One would natur- 
ally expect that powers of blight would be represented as 
vanquished not on a winter but on a summer festival. Perhaps 
the old myths told of the defeat and subjection of the gods on 
Samhain, and of their victory over the powers of blight on 
Beltane. 

It is clear that the Fomorians, in their opposition 
to the Tuatha De Danann, and from the sinister 
character assigned to them in folk-tradition, had 
come to be regarded in mythology as identical with 
beings who, to the Celts of Ireland, represented the 
powers of Nature which were hostile to man and 
to his gods. Blight, disease, fog, winter, the raging 
sea, and all influences of evil are personified in the 
Fomorians. Before them men trembled, yet they 
were not wholly cast down, for they knew that 
the bright immortal gods, who gave light and 
caused growth, were on their side and fought 
against their enemies.^ 

A similar euhemeiized version of old dualistic 
myths, though presented in a more romantic form, 
is perhaps to be found in the "Welsh story of Llikld 
and Llevdys. 

LlOdd is an old divinity (perhaps the equivalent of the Irish 
Nnada) who, in this story, figures as a king of Britain. Uis 
country ia subjected to three plagues : that of the race of the 
Coranians, who hear every whisper wherever it is spoken ; that 
of a shriek beard all over the island on May Eve, which scares 
every one, and leaves animals, trees, earth, and water barren ; 
and that of the mysterious disappearance of a year's supply of 
food. From these three plagues Llevelys by his aflvice releases 
LlOdd and his people. lie gives him insects which he must 
bruise in water. Then, having called together his people and 
the Coranians, be is to throw the water over them. It will poison 
the Coranians, but do no harm to the men of bis own race. 
The second plague is caused by the attack made on the dragon 
of the land by a foreign dragon, and Llevelys instructs LlQdd 
how to capture both. This is done, and LlOdd buries them in a 
kiatvaen at Dtnas Emreis in Snowdon. The third plague is 
caused by a mighty magician who, while every one is lulled to 
■leep by his m:^c, carries oft the store of provisions. LlOdd 
must, therefore, watch, and, whenever he feels a desire to 
sleep, must plunge into a cauldron of cold water. Following 
this advice, he captures and overpowers the magician, who be- 
comes his vassal (Loth, Mabinonion, Paris, 188<J, L 173). The 
Coranians are described in the Triads as a hostile race of in- 
▼aders, and, contrary to this story, they are said never to have 
left the island (lx)th, ii. 266, 274). But the method of getting 
rid of them, as well as the incidents of the dragons and the 
magician, shows that we are not dealing with actual tribes. As 
Bhys has shown, they may be a race of dwarfs, their name prob- 
ably being derived from c&rTf 'dwarf.' They also survive in 
Welsh folk-belief as a kind of mischievous fairies(Ce^tu: Heathen- 
dom, London, 1&S8, p. 606 ; ct. the Breton dwarf fairies, the 
Corr and Corrigan). 

The question arises whether there is not here something 
Anal(vou8 to the strife of Fomorians and Tuatha D6 Danann. 
In all three incidents we have a whole realm suffering from 
plagues ; in the last two, fertility and plenty are destroyed, 
women lose their hope of offspring, animals and vegetation are 
blighted, and food ia stolen away. The dragon plague occurs 
<»i Hay-day (Beltane), and in a Triad the plague of the Cor- 
anians has its place taken by that of March Malaen from beyond 
the sea, and ia called * the oppression of the 1st of May.' Rhys 



1 For the account of the battles, see Harl. MS 6280, text and 
tr. in nCei xii. [1891] 69 ff. Cf. d'Arbois de Jubainville, Cours 
de litt. eelt.f vol. ii. [Paris, 1884} passim ; and for the probable 
original character of the Fomorians, see art. Celts in voL iii. 
p. 282*. 



has pointed out the similarity of March to More, a Fomorian 
king who levied a tax of two-thirds of their children, corn, 
and milk on the Kemedians every Samhain eve, and has also 
shown that Malaen is perhaps connected with words denoting 
something demoniac (op. cit. 609). 

The incidents of the Welsh story may be based on earlier 
myths or on ritual customs embodying the belief in powers hostile 
to growth and fertility and to their gods. LlOdd, like Nuada, 
is probably a god of growth, and this may be referred to in the 
ta^, not only in the fact that he overcomes beings who cause 
dearth and barrenness, but in the fact that his generosity and 
liberality in giving meat and drink to all who sought them are 
particularly mentioned. It is not clear, however, why the 
hostility should have been most active on May-day, but this 
may be a misunderstanding, as in the Irish story, and it is said 
that the dragons are overcome on May-eve. 

It is not unlikely that these dualistic myths were 
connected with ritual acts. Another romantic 
Welsh story, hased upon an earlier myth, is 
strongly suggestive of this. 

Llfidd had a daughter Creidylad, who was to wed Gwythur, 
but before the wedding Gwyn abducted her. A fight ensued, 
in which Qwyn was victorious, forcing one of his antagonists to 
eat bis dead father's heart. On this, King Arthur interfered, 
and commanded that Creidylad should stay at her father's 
house, while Gwyn and Gwythur were to fight for her every 
year on the 1st of May until the Day of Judgment. Then the 
victor should gain her hand (Loth, i. 269 f.). 

The myth on which this story is hased may have 
arisen as explanatory of actual ritual combats in 
Avhich the beneficent and hurtful powers were re- 
presented dramatically. Traces of these ritual 
combats survived in folk-custom. 

Thus, in the Isle of Man on May-day a young girl was made 
Queen of the May, and was attended by a 'captain' and several 
other persons. There was also a Queen of Winter and her com- 
pany. Both parties were symbolically arrayed, and met in 
mimic combat on the May festival. If the Queen of the May 
was captured, she was ransomed by her men for a sum of money, 
which was then spent on a feast in which all joined (Train, Isle 
of Man, Douglas, 1845, ii. 118). 

Such mimic lights between human representa- 
tives of Summer and Winter are common in Euro- 
pean folk-custom, and are survivals from primitive 
ritual, which was intended magically to assist the 
beneficent powers of growth in their combat with 
those of blight and death, while at the same time 
auguries of the probable fertility of the season 
were no doubt drawn from the course of the fight 
(for examples, see Grimm, Teut, Myth., Eng. tr., 
London, 1880-8, ii. 764 f. ; Erazer, GB^ 1900, 
ii. 99 f.)- The ritual was connected with the dual- 
istic idea of 

*a quarrel or war between the two powers of the year. . . . 
Summer and Winter are at war with one another, exactly like 
Day and Night ; Day and Summer gladden, as Night and 
Winter vex the world.' In the ritual ' Summer conies off 
victorious, and Winter Is defeated ; the people supply, as it 
were, the chorus of spectators, and break out into praises of the 
conqueror' (Grimm, 702, 764). 

But, as tlie true meaning and purpose of the 
ritual were gradually forgotten, the mythical ideas 
which they dramatized would be expressed ditler- 
ently — in some cases, perhaps, more elaborately. 
Both myth and ritual of a dualistic kind probably 
gave rise to the story of Creidylad, tlie daugliter of 
a god of growtli. Nor, indeed, is it impossible that 
the stories of the battle of Magtured may have 
owed something to the suggestiveness of those 
ritual combats. These took place at the begin- 
ning of summer, when the vigour of the powers of 
growth had increased, and that of the powers of 
blight had as clearly decreased. This, which was 
regarded as the result of a long combat, was so 
represented in the ritual and described in myth. 

In general the ritual of the Celtic festivals was 
largely directed to aiding the sun and other powers 
by which fertility was increased. The uonfire 
which had so prominent a place on these occasions 
was a kind of sun-charm (see Eestivals [Celtic]). 
It is probable also that the human victims slain at 
an earlier time at these festivals, as representatives 
of the spirit or god of vegetation, were later re- 
garded as sacrifices ofTered to propitiate the evil 
powers which arrayed themselves against man and 
his beneficent deities, unless they were simply 
regarded as propitiating the latter. 



IM 



DUALISM (Egyptian) 



The activity of hostile powers of bliglit was 
naturally greater in winter, and this appears to be 
referred to botli in tales in Irish texts which are 
the ddbris of old niytlis, and in popular traditional 
beliefs. In these, demoniac beings of all kinds are 
regarded as peculiarly active and malevolent at 
Saiuhain (the beginning of winter). 'Malignant 
bird-Hocks' issue from the hell-gate of Ireland 
every Samliain-eve, to blight the crops and to 
kill animals. ' Demon women ' always appear on 
that night, and they resemble the Samfutnach, a 
Noveuil)er demon believed in the Highlands to 
steal children and work other mischief. The 
activity of witches and other evil beings, of fairies 
who abduct human beings, and of the dead at that 
time is also suggestive in this connexion (see Joyce, 
Social Mist, of Anc. Ireland, 1903, ii. 556 ; JiCel x. 
[1889] 214, 225, xxiv. [1903] 172 ; Celtic Magazine, 
ix. [1883] 209). Nor is it unlikely that some of the 
demoniac beings of later Celtic superstition were 
not simply older benelicent gods or spirits to whom 
an evil cliaracter had been assigned as the result of 
the ado]}tion of a new religion ; it is probable that 
already in pagan times they represented the powers 
of Nature in its more hostile aspects. 

Thus, though the evidence for Celtic dualism is 
not extensive, and is largely inferential, there is no 
rea.son to doubt that a certain belief in opposing 
powers, such as is a necessary part of all Nature- 
religions, did exist. How far that ever became a 
more ethical dualism is quite unknown. 

LiTBRATURE. — This is sufficiently given in the article. See 
also MacCuUoch, Religum of the Ancient Celts, Edin., 1011. 

J. A. MacCulloch. 

DUALISM (Egyptian).— I. General.— Egyp- 
tian religion exhibits, ' fossilized ' in the different 
stratifications of its various religious periods, the 
whole series of dualistic notions that we find to-day 
in all the other religions. Thus, in a good many 
of the chapters of the different ' Books of the 
Dead,' we find traces of a pre-historio period when 
dualism, in the humblest sense of the term, may 
be seen in process of formation, and in a form 
analogous in many respects to what exists at pre- 
sent among numerous black tribes of the African 
continent. Every good or bad incident experi- 
enced or observed by the individual is the work of 
• spirits,' visible or invisible (see Demons and 
Spirits [Egyp.]) ; every occurrence of which man 
feels the counter-blow is the result of these en- 
counters. In this Egyptian realm of primitive 
religion, as in every other part of creation, no 
single spirit is specifically good or bad (generally 
speaking, however, the tendency is towards the 
pessimistic side, as is the case with the majority 
of savage notions) ; all spirits are irritable, and 
hungry, and simply try to gratify their instincts, 
which are the same as those of all other beings of 
the visible world. But the personal experiences 
gathered from generations of Egyptians, and col- 
lected by sorcerer-priests, led to the notion that 
these spirits were under the command of stronger 
spirits, who were their masters. It is not even 
said that these masters are good ; they are simply 
the controllers of beings whose attacks are feared 
by man. 

Men's business is to try to steal from the most 
powerful spirits the knowledge of the means em- 
ployed by them, to seize their arms, and, above 
all, to disguise themselves as these very spirits 
themselves. Men, therefore, always pretend to 
' be ' sucli and such spirits or gods, in order to 
have more power ; but such substitution does not 
involve any conclusion as to a permanent char- 
acter of good-will or even of protection so far as 
the spirit is concerned in whose name they act or 
claim to act. Fugitive traits of dualism appear. 
Alliance or identification with the most i)owerful 



s|>irits necessitates an attempt at classification 
and the attributing to a certam number of them 
of the permanent characteristics of beings useful, 
or even to a certain extent favourable, to man. 
They are not yet called beneficent. A tacit 
alliance is forniea between certain spirits and cer- 
tain men, with a tendency to mutual obligations, 
hosed on experimental utility. At the same time, 
the classification of ' spirits (and of the good and 
bad forces controlled by them) ceases to be an 
individual appreciation. The knowledge acquired, 
by traditional teaching, of the means (formulae, 
talismans, mimetic disguises, etc.) of working upon 
these spirits brings into existence, for the advan- 
tage of the initiated, a list of the powers that arj 
generally hostile or sympathetic. The use of this 
seems to have been reserved at first to a social class 
or tribal group. 

In certain chapters of the Book of the Dead, 
which are evidently of less remote composition, 
we see the properly so-called dualistic notion of a 
permanent conllict between the different kinds of 
important spirits very nearly taking definite sepa- 
rate shape, with an idea of an earthly opposition 
(giving, of course, the word ' earth,' or ' universe,' 
the very narrow sense of that patch of ground in- 
habited by the group in question). The observa- 
tion of the actions of animate beings, and of natural 
incidents and phenomena, and the ettbrts to con- 
nect cause and effect, lead to a more or less 
laboured adjustment of this elementary co-ordi- 
nation. Light and darkness, health and sickness, 
calm and storm, abundance and want, range them- 
selves in two armies, into whose ranks step the 
various visible beings (fauna and flora), then the 
terrestrial invisible beings, then the beings of the 
' regions,' and of the winds and the stars (these last 
three classes having a tendency to assume the 
characteristics of ordinary beings well- or ill- 
disposed to men ; the Cat of the Ashdn-tree in 
HeliopolLs, the Ibis, and the cow-goddesses, e.g., 
o])posing the reptiles and lizards, who are the con- 
stant enemies of man). (Jods analogous to the 
Mo-acha and Shi-acha of the Ainu (gods of calm 
and of the tempest, and mutual enemies ; see 
AiNUS, § i6, vol. i. p. 242), or to the South-West 
Wind of Chalda;a, appear in the Nile Valley. 

This dualism, crude as it is, may reach a rough 
grouping of opposed deities, with a relative hier- 
archy of spirits or secondary beings enrolled in the 
ranks of the two armies. The first attempts at 
cosmogonical explanations lead to the appearance 
in the texts of the same quasi-necessary grouping, 
on the side of the good army, of the oeings who 
preside over the creation and the preservation 
of light, of the fertilizing waters, and the supply of 
nourishment and necessary things. The notion — 
still obscure, but in existence — presents itself of a 
state of things, an ' order,' over which these beings 
preside, which is their work ; and, as life and the 
continuation of species depend upon this order, 
an alliance necessarily springs up between the 
Divine beings controlling it and the man of 

Egypt.' 

Of course this dualism is exclusively natural- 
istic, and there can be no question of a moral 
element. All that we have as yet is certain per- 
manent 'beneficent' functions associated with 
certain gods, and continuous hostile energies 
associated with certain others. The hierarchies 
are confused and badly organized, because of the 
widely dis.similar sources from which the different 
combatants come : a number of Divine beings were 
neutral, or only intermittently active; and, as a 

I This curious process — necessarilj' a long one — may be seen 
fairly well in the efforts of the successive commentators on 
ch. 17 of the Book of the Dead, or in certain ancient part* 
of the Pyramid texts. 



DUALISM (Egyptian) 



105 



more general rule still, tlieir character of good or bad 
arose from what they had accomplished by their 
energy (kUling, stinging, devouring, tearing, etc.) 
in the service of a good or bad goid — not by their 
free choice, but by the fact that they were slaves, 
or forcibly detained spirits, in the service of such 
and such a master. This is the condition of most 
of the ' spirits ' bequeathed by pre-historic times 
to the Theban descriptions (paintings or writings) 
of the Other-world ; and likewise of nearly all the 
genii and demons of animal aspect. 

Poor as a dualistic classilication based on such 
processes may appear to us, nevertheless, once this 
point is reached, the system already contains the 
fundamental element — the antagonism of the forces 
upon which the world's progress depends. Though 
it seems at first a difficult thing to admit, still it 
may be adimied tliat the mastery of the idea of 
a moral dualism is much less dilficult to attain 
from this point than was the original compre- 
hension of the idea of the antagonism of purely 
material order and disorder. 

2. Conditions peculiar to Egypt. — A system of 
cosmogonic dualism like the above, generally 
achieved through the creation of myths, lias been 
formed nearly everyivhere by difl'erent religions. 
But it has stopi)ed, as a rule, among savage peoples, 
at the limits of ascertained knowledge, and has 
usually tended to end in pessimistic inaction. The 
future of a dualism which has reached this point 
in development lies in the idea of the possible, 
then necessary, co-operation of man — and that 
without assuming any idea of a moral element ; 
it is the much simpler case of the conviction that 
man can help the superior beings to maintain 
order in the material world, and even, in a more 
hnmble way, that he can render material aid to 
the useful beings in their struggle against their 
enemies. This idea, tliough instinctive, cannot 
be crystallized without important preliminary in- 
dications sujiplied by Nature. These enable even 
elementary religions to abstract from the tumult 
and chaos of the innumerable phenomena of 
Nature a relatively clear vision of the great stmg- 

fles of the elements, climatic and geographical. 
n tills respect Egypt has been trnly a privileged 
country (see § 3, and Calendar [Egyptian]). 

3. Principal elements. — If we now turn to in- 
vestigate the separate elements that united to 
form a dnaliBtic qrstem in Egypt, we find (leaving 
out of account the innumerable secondary forma- 
tive elements) three chief groups : (1) the Nile 
and its valley as opposed to the desert ; (2) the 
supposed strife of the stars in the vault of heaven 
or in the invisible sky of the ' lower world ' ; and 
(3) the struggle between the sun and the powers 
of darkness, taking the place of the struggle of 
the stars. The whole becomes gradually more 
closely bound together. 

It is difficult to decide whether the first group is the most 
ancient. A negative evidence seems to follow from the positive 
fact that the antagonism of the deciert and the verdant soil of 
the valley ia not mentioned in the ritual texts, le{;cnd8, or 
Iconography down to a very late date. Even the assimilation, 
affirmed throughout Eg.vptology, of Osiris with the valley, and 
of his enemy Set with the lonely destructive desert, is found, on 
thorough examination, to be an assertion of very lato date, 
due to naturalistic symbolism ; and i'lutarch is still the best 
authority to refer to in this matter. 

Whatever its actual date, this ' naturalistic ' 
division of dnalism never came into the complete 
body of doctrine except in the form of a comple- 
mentary explanation. A goodly proportion of the 
pre-historic texts preserved in the Pyramid ver- 
sions i.s, on the other hand, devoted to the motions 
and supposed struggles in the firmament, and their 
direct influence upon the rest of the world can be 
clearly deduced from an examination of Egyptian 
beliefs. The positions of the planets and constel- 
lations, the sadden appearance of such bodies as 



meteors, shooting stars, and comets, are regarded 
as manifestations of opposing shocks, of struggles 
to maintain or to destroy the order of the universe. 
It is worth observing that, at this stage of develop- 
ment, the sun has very little importance in itself ; 
its beneficent influence is hardly mentioned in the 
oldest beliefs, and there is, of course, no question 
of its filling any creative role whatever. This fact 
can be explained, partly at least, by the small 
importance, in a country like Egypt, of the gradual 
disappearance of the heating force, or of the period 
of its stay, light being as yet the sun's chief 
beneficent activity. The Egyptian had not yet 
connected its visible course with the succession of 
the various seasons of the year — these were the 
work of the stars, of Sotliis, the Great Bear, etc. 
The moon seems early to have attained a more 
definite character; its name of Ahi ('the Com- 
batant ') is a relic of a time when this planet held 
an important place in the Egyptian's studies. 

On a close examination of the dualistic organiza- 
tion based upon the orbits and influences of the 
heavenly bodies, two periods can be distinguished 
in these times at once so remote and yet so far 
in advance of the starting-point. In one of these 
periods, the principal rOle is still in the hands 
of gjoups of demons and spirits who control 
a certain part of the celestial world — a region, 
a constellation, etc. (see Demons [Egyp.]) — and 
ensure the safe journey of the sun, moon, and 
planets, constantly guarding them from the various 
monsters lying in wait throughout the whole firma- 
ment. (About a fifth of the Pyramid texts relate 
to this subject.) Groups of secondary spirits or 
vassals, with no individual personality, are ranged 
around the combatants in each encounter, or are 
localized in a certain spot (bands of jackal spirits, 
monkey sjjirits, etc. ) ; others, such as the hunmamit, 
form a bodyguard ifor the sun ; and their import- 
ance decreases proportionately as the sun assumes 
a personality and importance for itself. These 
spirits gradually become groups of angels with no 
definite function, and in the end are practically 
confounded with the rays, or vital forces, of the 
sun. 

In tlie second period, the antagonism of the 
world becomes accentuated, and the sun's beneficent 
jtrotective role is defined over against a certain 
number of stars. These play a more active part, 
wliile the spirits of the regions fall into the back- 
ground. "These stars are early deified and regarded 
as figures or images of the gods rather than as the 
dwellings of groups of spirits. They are described 
in the texts as accompanying the sun, preparing 
the way for it, defending it, battling unceasingly. 
Several deities of the Nile Valley, who were not 
stellar deities originally, show a tendency to become 
confused with these gods of the sky, and take a 
position on board the sun's barque. They all 
employ their time guiding the barque, reciting in- 
cantations, and pointing out dangers. The paint- 
ings of the Theban period, thougli of very much 
later date, contain an exact picture of that period, 
and on the whole agree in essentials with the 
Pyramid texts. A steady succession of dangers 
(in which the pikes, harpoons, arrows, and lances 
of the gods play as important a part as the magic 
formula;) is painfully surmounted by virtue of 
untiring efl'orts. The sun is guided, protected, and 
sustained, but never directs anything itself. It is 
not a chief ; it simply submits passively to attacks 
and defences. The cosmogonic order and well- 
being always win the day, but never decisively. 
For, although the army of the good gods is steadily 
getting into better orcfer, so also is that of the bad 
gods. The conception is not yet formed that the 
Kbdfiot is the personal work of the sun, but the 
fundamental idea is already there — that the Kixriua 



106 



DUALISM {Egyptian) 



{maait) depeuib upon the maintenance of the sun's 
action. On the otlier hand, Ajxipi, the single 
giant adversary of the sun, to begin with, gathers 
round him as liis helpers all the isolated spirits 
who had been warring on their own account in the 
primitive struggle. These were the serpent gods 
of every kind, the boa {e.if., Book of tne Dead, 
ch, 4U) or serpent naja, and all those serpents so 
\-ividly portrayed in the group of curious texts of 
the I'yramid of Unas against serpents ; also a 
whole section of the crocodile gods of the marshes 
of the sky ; and, finally, the earliest adversaries of 
the ^ood stars : the ass who tried to destroy the 
son m the heavenly deserts, the sow who tried to 
devour the moon, the giant tortoise, the fantastic 
monsters of the Theban frescoes, the gazelles with 
serpents' heads, etc. Thus narrowed down into 
a duel between light and darkness, the struggle 
between good and evil is imagined and described 
as taking place during the hours of the night, when 
the sun was invisible to the eyes of the Egyptians. 
The lower world is peopled with ' friends ' and 
'enemies,' under the form of thousands of spirits 
helping or attacking the groups of gods who pro- 
tect the sun in its course. The upper and lower 
heavens are thus peopled, like the earth, by repre- 
sentatives of the two great opposing forces. 

The evolution of this originally stellar dualism 
ends, after several thousands of years, in solar 
dualism. The sun Ra gradually ceases to be a 
protected god, and becomes a protector. The 
KJir/to; is no longer merely the result of his exist- 
ence ; it is his work. He becomes the type of 
every beneficent energy ; he becomes the creator ; 
he is, therefore, the natural chief of everything that 
contributes to conlirm his work. The magnihoence 
of the hymns of the Theban period, when describ- 
ing Ra (the classic sun) or Aten (the sun of Amama 
religion), gives a good idea of the conception 
then formed of the rdle of the sun, the supreme 
god. The fresco of Siphtah and the paintings of 
Seti I. in the royal hypogees of Thebes, show very 
well, though with too much mysticism at times, 
the very strenuous struggle which the sun carries 
on without a break against the disturbers of his 
work ; and in the world of darkness, where the 
'enemies of Ka' are undergoing all sorts of 
punishments, the notion already appears that 'hos- 
tility to Ra ' could consist not only in a struggle 
against material light and order, but also in the 
combat with everything tliat is in any way what- 
ever a consequence or necessary complement of this 
light and order. This step, which was of the 
highest importance for the broadening of the 
nature of dualism, was due to the combination of 
solar dualism with the idea that the demiurgical 
work of the sun went on after the creation, through 
the descendants placed by the sun on this earth. 
If the Egyptian Ra, Lord of Order, was developed 
by means similar to those producing the eartnly 
role of the Chaldiean Shamasn, and if the disturbers 
of the Egyptian itAo-jiios are the same essentially as 
those of the Delta of the Euphrates, this new and 
final element would appear to be peculiar to the 
Nile Valley. It rests upon the fundamental legend 
of Osiris, son of Ra, a god with human shape, and 
the first king of the Egypt which Ra organized 
and civilized. Osiris, continued in Horus, left the 
carrying on of his task to the Divine continuations 
placed ' upon the throne of Horus ' — the Pharaohs, 
'sons of tne sun.' See Eqyi'TIAN Rkligion. 

Osiris, organizer of the Nile Valley, originator 
of the first institutions of civilization, inventor of 
the chief things that are good and useful for man 
(agriculture, trades, etc.), becomes the archetype 
of the good being {uonnojir), round whom gradu- 
ally gather all the elements and creatures who do 
any good and salutary work in the world. The 



necessity of a counterpart gives rise to the romance 
of his struggle against Set. The slaying of Osiris, 
his resurrection, and his departure to the Other- 
world at once connect this myth with that of the 
sun's journey into the lower world, and also make 
it possible to continue the r6le and reign of Osiris 
beyond the terrestrial life. At the same time, the 
legend of Horns succeeding his father Osiris on 
this earth, after avenging him, shows that the 
work once begun does not come to an end. In 
short, the fact that Set is not destroyed, but only 
conquered, is the solution of what is perhaps our 
most difficult problem — the present existence of 
evil in the world. A dualism which is confined to 
the origin of the world, with a struggle completed 
at the world's inception, cannot explain the per- 
sistence of evil, 'rhis becomes clear only when 
we admit that the struggle goes on indefinitely ; 
and the conception of the battle of Osirls's suc- 
cessors against Set and his followers fits in with 
the parallel continuity of the ancient solar struggle 
in the celestial regions. 

This parallelism gradually leads to a fusion of 
the characters of Osiris and Ra, which, we might 
almost say, was fated from the beginning. Osiris 
becomes one of the aspects of the struggling sun, 
apparently dying and coming to life again every 
day ; and his work on the earth gets confused with 
the creative function of the sun. On the side of 
the evil forces there is even greater confusion 
between Set and Apopi, chief of the powers of 
darkness. Ra-Osiris, chief of all good forces, 
becomes more and more clearly opposed, as the 
centuries pass, to Set-Typhon-Apopi, chief of evil. 
The picture is completed in the last period by the 
assimilation of Osiris to the beneficent Nile and of 
Set to the hostile desert. 

^. Final aspect of Egyptian dualism. — From 
this stage it is a comparatively easy step to the 
relative realization of a dualism with moral ele- 
ments. The king of Egypt, grandson of Osiris 
and successor of Horus, in whom there lives, in 
virtue of his coronation, a portion of the soul of 
Ra, is strictly required to continue everything 
his ancestors have done on the earth and are 
still doing in the sky. The enemies of Ra and 
Osiris are his enemies, and, inversely, the enemies 
of the king are the enemies of Ra and Osiris. 
The gods and men of Egypt owe each other strict 
allegiance at every moment against the opposing 
forces. By force of circumstances the purely 
human enemies of the king of Egypt, one of 
whose titles is ' the Good God ' (Notir Nofir), are 
assimilated to the evil and destructive gods and 
spirits, as adversaries, of the very same kind, of 
one and the same K6<riJios — cosmogonic as much as 
political or administrative. The foreign enemy of 
the Egyptian becomes 'cursed,' a 'plague,' a 'son 
of rebellion,' a ' child of darkness,' whom gods and 
men must reduce to impotence along with the 
enemies of Ra and Osiris ; and the pictures of the 
lower world show the former confounded with the 
latter. Two mighty armies of good and evil appear 
before Egyptian thought, which, however, never 
arrived at a clear determination of the separate 
characters of this vast picture. On one side we 
have Ra-Osiris, Horus, the kin^, and along with 
them — the product of all periods and of all the 
stages of formation — the ancient stellar spirits, 
the heavenly gods befriending light, the earthly 
gods proceeaing from beings friendly to man, the 
followers of Horus, the initiated worshippers of 
the Osirian teaching, the faithful accom])auying 
or representing the living king, all upright and 
trusty functionaries, and — down to the lowest 
peasant — every man who carries on the task as- 
signed to him in the maintenance of a country 
organized (like the world) according to normaJ 



DUALISM (Greek) 



107 



order (itmait). On the other side are Apopi and 
hia followers, monsters and demons, Set with his 
Divine and human partisans, the spirits of evil, 
of disease, and of darkness, the troublesome dead, 
and the millions of hostile spirits of the other 
world, and, lastly, amalgamated with these (or 
sometimes even confused with them), there are 
the tribes of the desert and frontiers which pre- 
historic Egypt had to drive back at the beginning 
of her political organization. The Egj'ptian's 
enemies have naturally become the enemies of 
good, the natural allies of Set-Apopi ; and, in 
the Other-world, Ra continues to destroy them, 
delivering over their shades to heat, the sword, 
and the hre, commanding his spirits to ' proceed to 
their destruction.' 

A less sava^ conception of the place of foreign races in the 
world appe.irs later. In the famous sarcophagus of Seti i., e.g., 
the sun discourses with a noble benignity to the four races of 
the world (Eg>-ptian8, Libyans, Asiatics, and Blactis), and the 
only condition necessary in order to have a claim upon his 
protection seems to be to aclinowledge the uncontestable 
supremacy of Eg^-pt. The classilication of * foreigners ' in the 
army of evil forces seems now to become confined to the tradi- 
tions of legendarj' wars, in which there ia no longer any clear 
distinction between the human and demoniac character of the 
ancient ' enemies of Egypt ' of legendary times. 

The inclusion of the nation's human adversaries 
among the forces of evU has, as a symmetrically 
necessary counterpart, the notion that the internal 
enemies of Egyptian order are equally adherents 
of the evil forces. Just as the sun Ra cannot 
maintain the order he created without discipline, 
the hierarchy, and the submission and co-operation 
of all ranks of his collaborators, in the same way 
the king requires identical conditions before he 
can carry ou in Egypt the work of Osiris, ' the 
Good Bein<^,' and that of Horus ; the duties ex- 
pected of the Egyptian of every degree, propor- 
tioned according to his circumstances, are thus 
based upon the idea of this ever-present and neces- 
sary task. The imperative and more and more 
minute duties of the good chief or the good ad- 
ministrator presuppose a firm authority, prudence, 
and equity, then a love of j ustice and truth, pity for 
the weak, charity, and an ever-increasing number 
of social virtues. These obligations, confined at 
first to those in power, are soon extended to the 
more hiunble citizens. Any violation of these 
duties means a blemish upon the order (maait), 
which is already partially an administrative order, 
then becomes a social, and finally a moral, order. 
In mimetic processions and dramas we undoubt- 
edly see magic battles goin" on just as among 
primitive peoples ; but symbolism attaches a more 
and more esoteric significance to these representa- 
tions — the significance of a victory of good over 
evil which could not be attained by magic pure 
and simple ; or the significance of a commemora- 
tion of the initial work accomplished by the gods 
in days gone by which it is man's duty to caiTy 
on (individually or in groups) by the struggle 
against everytliing evil. Figures as early as those 
of the ' Stete of Horus,' in which the god crushes, 
tramples upon, or destroys crocodiles, serpents, 
and monsters, are significant, to the thinker, of 
the beneficent rule of a god who abhors evil, and 
whom every man ought both to assist and to 
imitate. W hen Ptolemy Soter, at his coronation 
in a papyrus barque, captures the water-fowl in 
the marshes, he means by this to symbolize that, 
under his sway, he giiarantees the destruction of all 
evil things, in the highest meaning of the words. 

iJTHlATtrRK.— There is no monograph on the subject. The 
opposition of Osiris and Set, or of Ka and Apopi, is, of course, 
mentioned in all works dealing with Egypt and Egyptian re- 
Wgion. A numt>er of useful o)>servations may be found in 
^- A. W. Budge, OlirU and the Regurrectian, Ixindon, 1911. 
The question is briefly treated in G. Foucart, Uithode cam- 
panUice^, Paris, 1912, p. 810 B. 

Gkoeok Foucabt. 



DUALISM (Greek).— I. The pre-Socratic plu- 
ralists. — The view of the universe taken by the 
pre-Socratic philosophers was for the most part 
monistic, and materialistically monistic. This 
applies to the Ionian hylozoists (Milesian and 
Ejiesian alike) — to Heraclitus as much as to 
Thales, Anaximander, and the others ; for, though 
Heraclitus laid stress on logos as well as on primi- 
tive ' fire,' since the explanatory term logos was 
to him merely an aspect of fire, it was only one 
side of the primary stall' or material out of which 
the world was formed. It applies also, although 
with a ditt'erence, to the Eleatic School ; for, al- 
though I'armenides and his followers emphasized 
Unity and denied Change, making the one Being 
and the other Non-being, the teaching is still 
materialistic and monistic (for the unity of Par- 
raenides is ' corporeal '), but the monism rests on 
the intellectual apprehension of Unity, not on the 
manipulation of a primary substance. It is the 
result of the philosophical intellect exercised on 
the world of our experience, as distinguished both 
from the scientific intellect and from the poetic 
imagination, as well as from mere sense-perception. 
In 'the Many' the intellect perceives only the 
illusory and ' a path that none can learn of at all ' ; 
' the One ' alone is true, and it alone exists. Dualism 
emerges first with the earlypluralists— Empedocles, 
Anaxagoras, and Democritus ; and it indicates the 
fact that a more scientific view of the world was 
now being reached, and that the conception was 
clearly glowing of the distinction between man as 
a thinking subject and the world as the object of 
thought. It has, therefore, both a cosmological 
and a psychological significance. 

(1) Empedocles. — The first great principle on 
which Empedocles based his philosophy was that 
bodies in the universe, and the universe itself, con- 
sist of the four elements (he called them ' roots of 
things ') — fire, air, water, earth ; and that these 
are held together or kept in separation, as the case 
may be, by the two contrary forces Love and Hate. 
Regarded as a completed Sphere, this world is con- 
ceived as broken up by degrees, through the inter- 
ference of Hate or Discord, till the moment comes 
when Discord is supreme and chaos reigns, out of 
which order is again produced by the gradual inilu- 
ence and alternate dominance of Love, to be again 
succeeded by the disintegrating agency of Strife j 
and this alternate process goes on time without 
end. Here explicit expression is given to the 
dualistic conception of existence ; for, as the world 
is composed of elements, these need to be moved ; 
but they have no power of movement in them- 
selves ; consequently, they must be moved from 
without — that is. Love and Hate are needed as 
movent forces. See, further, art. Empedocles. 

(2) Anaxagoras. — The reputation of Anaxagoras 
in the history of philosophy rests mainly on two 
things : (1) his physical doctrine of homoiomeria ; 
and (2) his enunciation of the seemingly spiritual- 
istic position that vovt, or intellect, is the inter- 
preting factor in the universe. In place of four 
elements, out of which everything was formed, 
as Empedocles had taught, Anaxagoras posits an 
infinite number of primitive substances, each com- 
posed of homogeneous particles, 'which neither 
come into being nor perish, but persist eternally.' 
These Aristotle designated oiioio/iepij ; whence tne 
substantive o/wio/K^peia was formed (though not by 
him) to designate existence by d/iotoficpy and the 
doctrine thereof as set forth by Anaxagoras. Each 
homoeomerjf is unique and unlike every other ; yet 
none can exist apart from the others — each is mixed 
with each. Consequently, if everything is mixed 
with everything {ndv iv nayrl), a l>ody is what it is 
simply because of the elements that a,TO predmni- 
nant in ita structure. 



108 



DUALISM (Greek) 



But the world is not explained by these con- 
ceptions alone. We require also to take account 
of poOt, or intelligence. ' At the beginning,' Anaxa- 
goras says, ' all things were together ; then came 
mind {rout iXOiir) and set them in order (awi 
Sxiriir/iiTire).' It is evident that, if we interpret 
roCt spiritualistically, we have here the a.ssertion 
of a non-materialistic principle in the universe 
ruling and guiding all, operative both in the whole 
and in the individual — a presentation of a teleo- 
logical view of the world that anticipated I'lato 
and Aristotle. It is the first clear statement in 
Greek thought that there is a plan and purpose in 
existence, that Nature has a meaning and is inter- 
pretable, and that physics is subordinate to meta- 
physics. 

How far AnaxiL^onw himself realized the true import of big 
own doctrine is disputable. On the one hand, notwithstanding 
the fact that he himself designates foOc as absolutely pure and 
unmixed, and ascribes to it the function of imparting motion 
originally to things and of acting though itself incapable of being 
acted upon, it is doulitful whether vovi to him is really a spiri- 
tual substance. Many interpreters, supported by implications 
in his own phraseology', read it materialistically, though they 
allow that the noetic matter is not gross, but subtle and refined : 
they say that, though it may be taken after the analogy of what 
we find in human consciousness, it was only, after all, a natural 
force — simply on the line of the spiritual conception, but not 
yet itself spiritual. On the other hand, there can be little 
question that Anaxagoras did not use his conception to the full, 
either,'^! his cosmological or in his psychological teactiin^. It 
is the complaint both of Plato and of Aristotle that, in his 
philosophy, it simply occupies the place of a deui ex maehina ; 
or, otherwise, that he uses it as a kind of impressive badge or 
motto, and accords it a position of otium cum dignitaU. At all 
events, the principle of mind (t^O?) is present in the Anaxa- 
fforean philosophy as something distinct from matter, thereby 
bringing into view a dualistic interpretation of the univerBe 
that was to influence Western thought for all time. 

Dualism is further apparent in Anaxagoras's 
doctrine of sense-perception. Accepting the prin- 
ciple that 'everything is mixed witli everj'thing,' 
he proceeds to explain perception by the additional 
principle that ' unlike is recognized by unlike ' (the 
exact opposite of what Empedocles had laid down) : 
contraries are the indispensable condition of sensu- 
ous cognition. Take sight, for example. This is 
eflected, according to Anaxagoras, ' by reflexion of 
an image in the pupil of the eye, but this image is 
not reilected in a part of the pupil of like colour 
with the object, but in one of a ditt'erent colour. . . . 
The colour which predominates in the object seen 
is, when reflected, made to fall on the part of the 
eye which is of the opposite colour ' (Theophrastus, 
de Sensu, § 27). Cf. also art. Anaxagoras. 

(3) Democritus. — The grandest attempt in early 
Greek thought to give a thoroughgoing account of 
the universe on the basis of purely materialistic 
and mechanical principles was the Atomic Theory, 
associated chiefly with the name of Democritus. 
It was essentially scientific, but it is also philo- 
sophical. It so far reproduced the teacliing of 
Parmenides that it allowed that there can be no 
motion or becoming \vithout Non-being ; but, in 
order to conserve motion and becoming, it further 
maintained that Non-being (the Void) is equally 
real with Baing (the Plenum). On the other band, 
it owed much to Empedocles, whose doctrine of 
effluvia ifc adopted, though not without important 
modifications. For a full exposition of Democritus's 
theory, see art. Democritu.S. 

2. The Pythagoreans.— The kinds of dualism 
that we have Ijcen dealing with are distinctly 
philosophical and scientific. A diflierent type con- 
fronts us when we turn to the Pythagoreans. We 
have now a dualism of an ethical and religious 
stamp, based on the contrast of soul and Ixxly, and 
of the principles of good and evil. The body was 
regarded by the Pythagoreans, not a.9 the auxiliary 
and instrument of the soul, but as its sepulchre and 
prison-honse, oven as the seat and source of ain. 
'Mortify the Ixxly then' became the great injunc- 
tion ; and a religious order was instituted, and a 



system of abstinence devised for the purification of 
tlie soul and the development of its higher life. 
This was conjoined with the doctrine of metem- 
psychosis, which taught that life here in the body 
IS a penance for sin committed in a previous state 
of existence, and that only by successive incarna- 
tions can the soul be restored to i>urity and bliss. 
This view of the body as essentially ' vile,' and a 
hindrance, not a help, to the soul, had great influ- 
ence in Greek philosophy : it was in large measure 
accepted by Plato, and it was the basis of the 
teaching of the mystical Greek Schools of later 
times — especially the neo-Platonists. See, further, 
art. Pythagoreans. 

3. Plato. — The dualism of Plato centres in his 
Theory of Ideas, but assumes various aspects ac- 
cording to the context or the point of view from 
which that theory is regarded. Besides its dis- 
tinctively epistemological significance, it has a 
well-marked psychological bearing, depending on 
Plato's sharp-cut distinction between the soul and 
the body, conjoined with his doctrine of the soul 
OS pre-existent as well as immortal, and of the 
necessity of its gradual purification and ultimate 
return to its original home through re-incarnations 
or metempsychoses. It has also a cosmological 
reference, both in connexion with the creation of 
the world, where Necessity or Fate plays a part as 
well as design or purpose, and in connexion with 
the creation of the Soul of the World and the 
creation of Man, whose composite nature presents 
special difliculties. 

(1) If, as Aristotle tells us, and as may very well 
be seen from a perusal of the Platonic Dialogues 
themselves, the three great influences that told on 
Plato in the formation of his philosophy were the 
Heraclitean doctrine of the perpetual flux of sens- 
ible things, the Parraenidean insistence on Unity 
as the key to truth, and the Socratic unyielding 
demand for definitions and clear concepts pursued 
on a dialectic method that almost inevitably gave 
permanence to the concepts attained, the Platonic 
Ideology naturally takes the following shape : 

There are two worlds— the world of sense and the world of 
intelligence. The first is the sphere of cliange, of the fleeting 
and the fallacious ; the second is the sphere of the permanent 
and the true. It is to the second of these worlds that Ideas 
belong ; and they are not mere subjective representations, but 
transcendent self-subsistent entities, immutable and eternal — 
real independent objective existences, though the existence is 
timeless and spaceless, and so noumenal. Being the universal, 
they are not derived from experience, but are presupposed 
in it : they are the only true and knowable realities, all else 
being but show and appearance — objects of * opinion,' but not 
of 'knowledge.' 

Yet sense is, and the Ideas must have a relation to it. What 
is the relation ? Speaking generally, the answer is that Ideas 
are the causes of what reality sense-objects possess; or, in 
other words, sense-objects * participate ' in Ideas. Tliis is 
Plato's famous doctrine of 'participation-' (/w'fleft? orrb /ier^x***'), 
which is intended to express the immanence of Ideas — known 
also OS * communion ' {KOivuvio) and * presence ' (n-opovtn'a). If, 
further, it be asked how sense-objects participate in the self- 
existent and eternal Ideas, the answer is given in the Philebut, 
that ' tne One ' is manifested in ' the Many * in a graded system 
of knowledge. This does not explain the fact of participation, 
but it throws light upon the mode. More suggestive still is the 
figure of ' the Line,' as representative of the cognitive process, 
in the sixth book of the Heptiblic. Knowledge proper is thus 
shown to be absolutely distinct from opinion, which is the 
highest that sense in any of its forms can achieve. The Idea of 
tlie Good is all-pervasive ; while transcendent, it is also imma- 
nent ; although itself above intellect and above sense, it is the 
cause of both (like the sun in the heavens) and permeates both. 
But how this should bo is not shown. 

(•2) The Platonic duali-sm is further seen when 
we raise the question with regard to Ideas, How 
do we come to know them ? The answer to this is 
given in the I'luvdo and the Phctdrtts, and, again, 
in the Meno, viz. by n.'miniscence (itii.tuniiris). In 
a previous state of existence, the mind viewed the 
eternal Ideas ; and, after its descent to earth and 
its union with the body, it is able to revive them 
in part. Only thus, it appeared to Plato, could 
we explain the facts that truth is attainable by 



DUALISM (Greek) 



109 



man at all, that learning is possible, and that 
virtue can be taught. There is metempsychosis 
(so, too, Pythagoras had said) ; and the explana- 
tion of knowledge is here. But our birth into this 
world, the union of the soul with the body, is a 
descent j and the full ascent is made only when 
the union is dissolved. Although the body is not 
regarded by Plato, except in the Timwus, as 
essentially vile (sin, to Plato, was simply a disease, 
arising either from ignorance or from madness), 
yet it is the prison-house of the soul — a clog and 
hindrance to its complete development and highest 
perfection. It is mortal and, therefore, a restraint 
to the immortal, obstructing its clear vision and 
retarding its perfect acquisition of virtue. On the 
side of intellectual knowledge, it drags down the 
soul to the fleetin" and transitory, for the body 
operates through the senses, and these deal with 
tne fleeting and the changeful only. On the side 
of ethical achievement, it is apt to lower morality 
and to replace virtue by pleasure, and so to render 
the perception of ethical ideas faint. 

That there is truth in this conception of the 
body is obvious, but it is clearly not the whole 
truth. There is another side to it, namely, that 
which Browning has so finely expressed in Babbi 
Ben Ezra, where it is maintamed that 

' All good thin^ 
Are oure, nor soul helps fleah more, now, than flesh helps soul ! ' 

Nor does the doctrine of metempsychosis meet the 
real difficulty. It does not explain how the mind 
that has bad pre-natal sight of the eternal Ideas 
should come to be joined to a body at all — how the 
clear vision of the pre-existent state should come 
to be lost. As to how the soul of man came to fall 
from its pristine condition, Plato simply says, 
metaphorically, that some pre-existent souls are 
nnable to keep up with the gods in the pursuit of 
reality, 'and through some ill-hap sink beneath 
the double load of forgetfulness and vice, and 
their wings fall from them, and they drop to the 
ground' (see the Myth of the Charioteer in the 
Fhcedrua). But what rational necessity there is 
in this, making a fundamental difference among 
pre-existent souls, is not obvious. Once metem- 
psychosis gets a start, then the fact of a partially 
impure life here may explain the necessity of a 
return, for purposes of purification and of spiritual 
progress, to earthly life ; but how metempsychosis 
should ever begin, or, in other words, how tlie 
state of matters necessitating metempsychosis 
originates, is not shown. Yet this should be 
shown, if Plato's theory is to be rational through- 
oat. 

(3) Into the details of the Platonic cosmology as 
elaborated in the Timwus, it is impossible here to 
enter. The problem is — Given the Platonic Forms 
or Ideas as eternal immutable existences, and given 
also the eternal existence of Matter (matter order- 
less, chaotic, ruled by necessity), how were the 
order and the beauty of the former to be imparted 
to the latter? The answer is that the Divine 
Reason, the Demiurge or Creator, produced the 
marvellous effect that we know as the world by 
working upon matter according to an eternal 
archetype or pattern existing in the Divine mind. 
According to this intelligible archetype the visible 
universe was formed, and it owes its existence 
simply to the goodness of the Creator. The result 
is that the Universe is an animated rational exist- 
ence, a God ; having a Body (ff<S/io), a Soul (^ux^), 
and a Mind (I'oOs). Yet, tlie cosmos is not perfect. 
This arose from the fact that the Demiurge, in 
working upon matter, met with the pre-cosmical 
and extra-cosmical resistance of Necessity {' ArdyKTj). 
Necessity ruled Matter (the trpdrov (rCifna) : how 
could it be vanquished ? Not, according to Plato, 
by coercion, but by persuasion. In so far, then. 



as the Creator could gain Necessity by persuasion, 
to that extent could he freely execute his design 
on matter ; but, at the point where Necessity 
resisted and refused to be persuaded, the Demi- 
urge was powerless ; hence the imperfection of 
the cosmos. However metaphorical this is, it is 
the acknowledgment of a radical dualism in Plato's 
thinking. 

Similarly, the dualistic conception comes out in 
Plato's account of the creation of man. The 
mortal part of him is the workmanship of ' the 
gods,' but the rational and immortal part is sup- 
plied by the Demiurge himself. This division of 
functions was necessary because notliing mortal 
could be created by the Demiurge, and, had man 
been wholly his creation, it might have been pos- 
sible to cast the blame of man's sin and folly upon 
the Creator. As formed by the gods, man is a 
miniature of the cosmos — a microcosmos ; but, as 
his constructors had only mortal elements to work 
with, their handiwork had flaws and imperfections 
in it peculiar to the situation. It was theirs simply 
to create the body and the two mortal souls, the 
spirited and the appetitive (rd dv/jiOdSis and t4 
iriBvjxrp-iKdr), and to effect the junction of these 
with the immortal soul, or yoOj. As the mortal 
and immortal souls were antagonistic to each 
other, the best that the formative gods could do 
was to place them in such positions within the 
body (the skull, the breast, the belly) that the 
action of each upon the others should be as con- 
ducive as possible to good. This is pictorially 
attractive, but it does not remove the difficulty. 
The curious relation of the Demiurge to matter 
and to man, as represented in the Timwus, is 
practically an acknowledgment of inability to 
solve the riddle of the universe. 

4. Aristotle.— The greatest critic of the Platonic 
Theory of Ideas in ancient times was Aristotle. 
His criticisms are many and various, but they all 
centre in the objection that the two worlds — the 
world of sense and the world of intellect — are left 
by Plato apart, and that no real explanation is 
given of change in the world of phenomena. 
Either the Ideas are an unnecessary duplicate of 
the facts of experience, or they are useless, in- 
operative. Nevertheless, Aristotle had been the 
pupil of Plato, and the doctrine of Ideas left its 
permanent mark upon him. Hence, a metaphysi- 
cal dualism, no less real than, though not quite so 
obvious as, that of Plato, permeates the Aristotelian 
philosophy ; it is the dualism of Form and Matter, 
of Actuality and Potentiality. To Plato and 
Aristotle alike, knowledge lay in the Universal ; 
but, while the Universal was to Plato outside of 
and prior to experience, it was to Aristotle im- 
manent in experience : universal there is, yet it is 
not transcendentally existent, but is realized in 
individuals, in the concrete particulars of sense — it 
is the Form (essence), which Matter (the sense 
element) embodies. 

This dualism assumes various aspects as the 
different parts of Aristotle's i^hilosophy are passed 
in review. It is specially prominent in his Psycho- 
logy, in that part of it which deals with the 
metaphysics of the soul (for psychology was by 
no means all empirical to Aristotle), and in his 
Theology or First Philosopliy — his treatment of 
the relation of God to the Universe. 

(1) The psychological dualism appears in the 
very definition that Aristotle gives of the soul 
itself, and in the distinction that he makes be- 
tween soul and body. Soul he defines as 'the 
first entelechy [the earlier or implicit realization] 
of a natural body possessing life potentially': 
ivT€\4x^t^ V Trptirrri cwfiaro^ (pvffiKov dvvifjiei ^ojtjv ^xo^'tos 
{de An. 412a, 27). Tlie body here is regarded as 
matter, to which soul stands in the relation of 



no 



DUALISM (Greek) 




form : as Spenser puta it [Hymn in Honour of 
Beauty, line 132), 

* Kor or the aoul Uie body (onn doth take. 
For soul u fonn, and dotb the body make.' 
' Life ' is llie jjower of the Ixxly to nourish itself, 
to grow of itself, and to deuay of itself ; so that, 
if for ' matter ' and ' form ' we substitute ' potenti- 
ality' and ' actviality,' and distinguish the first 
stage of actuality from the second, as we dis- 
tinguish knowledge from the exercise of know- 
ledge, or the visual power of the eye from actual 
seeituf—i.e. if we distinguish between power or 
faculty and actual use, of which the second 
must be preceded by the first — then we get the 
foregoing definition. As applied to the soul of 
man, the conception that underlies the defini- 
tion is that the human body is the specific organ 
whereby the human soul or mind realizes itself. 
This clearly distinguishes Aristotle's view from 
Plato's. Plato opposed soul to body, regarding 
the latter as the prison-house of the former, ana 
allowed only that the body could be trained by 
gymnastic and music to obey the soul. To 
Aristotle, on the other hand, the body is the 
natural instrument of the soul, and so is pre- 
adapted to it. The two are necessary to form 
the concrete particular which we know as the 
individual human being. Yet, Aristotle adds : 

* It is, however, perfectly conceivable that there may be some 
parts ot it [the soul] which are separable [from the body], and 
this because they are not the expression or realization of any 
particular body. And, indeed, it is further matter ot doubt 
whether soul as the perfect realization of the body may not 
stand to it in the same separable relation as a sailor to his boat ' 
(dt An. 413o, 6). 

Dualism comes out sharply when Aristotle 
reaches the handling of the highest function of 
the soul, viz. intellect or voOs, where he discrimin- 
ates between the active and tlie passive vom, and 
between vovs generally and the other psychic 
functions. His scheme of functions, beginning 
with the lowest, is : nutritive or vegetative soul 
(ri dpeirTiK6v) ; sentient soul (rb aUT07yriic6v), including 
the conative soul (t6 ipeKTiKiv), which he sometimes 
makes a separate function ; and intellectual or 
noetic soul (voOs or ri vorinKbv), divided, as above, 
into passive vovs (voOs TraByp-tKbi) and active vovs 
(voui irotviiois). Each higher function presupposes 
the lower, though the lower does not presuppose 
the higher. Thus, the sentient soul presupi)oses 
the vegetative soul, and both sentient and vegeta- 
tive souls are presupposed by the noetic soul ; but 
the vegetative does not presuppose the sentient 
soul, nor dpes the sentient presuppose the noetic. 
It is characteristic of vom that it is eternal and 
immortal— at any rate, this applies to the active 
or poietic voii -. it is introduced into the individual 
human being ab extra, and the difficulty is to find 
what connexion it has, on the one hand, with the 
passive yoOt and with the other functions of the 
soul generally, and, on the other hand, with the 
body. As has been said above, it is distinctive of 
Aristotle that he recognizes the intimate and indis- 
soluble relation of soul to body, and the necessity 
of taking account of the physiological as well as of 
the psychical aspect of mental facts and processes. 
His great objection to the Pythagorean doctrine 
of the transmigration of souls was that it assumes 
that any body is suitable to any soul, whereas the 
human body is specially fitted for the soul. To 
maintain the opposite, he says, is like maintain- 
ing that the carpenter's art ' clothes itself in flutes ; 
the truth being that, just as art makes use of its 
appropriate instruments, so the soul must make 
use of its fitting body' [de An. 4076, 26). But, 
when he comes to treat of tlie active i-oCt, this in- 
timate relationship is ignore<l ; and the conclusion 
•.oacjched that this higher soul can exist altogether 
from the body— it is 'a diU'erent kind of soul' 
■tpw) from the others, and ' it alone admits 



of separation, as the eternal from the perishable' 
(ica^dirc^ ri iiiuiv toC 00a/>roC). 

Still further, the dualism of form and matter 
enters into Aristotle's theory of sense-perception. 

(2) The theological aspect of the Aristotelian 
dualism has been brought out in the art. Desire 
(Greek), and need only be referred to here. On the 
one side is God, who is the prime nnmoved movent, 
to whom the universe evermore looks desiringly ; 
and on the other side is the universe, which, 
though dependent on the Deity and derived from 
Him, is, nevertheless, regarded as not created at 
one particular time but as eternally existent. 
This might be interpreted as simply Aristotle's 
way of indicating his belief in impersonal reason 
as permeating the universe, and yet he at times 
has glimpses of a personal God, apart from the 
universe and ruling it, as a general does his army. 

* W© must consider also,* he says, ' in which of two ways the 
nature of the universe contains the good or the highest good, 
whether as something separate and by itself, or as the order of 
the parts. Probably in both ways, as an army does. For the 
good is found both in tile order and in the leader, and more in 
the latter ; for be does not depend on the order, but it depends 
on him ' (Met. xi